Cooper and the Temporal Nexus
by April in Paris
Summary: In which our protagonist builds a time machine, crash lands in the past, and discovers that unplanned and unexpected events hold the greatest mysteries - and possibilities - in the universe. Companion to my "Amelia and the . . ." stories, told from Cooper's POV. Absolutely essential to have read those first. AU - COOPMELIA COMPANION
1. Time Traveling Physicist

_**This series of stories is intended to be a companion piece to my original "Amelia and the . . . " stories. It is absolutely essential that you read the source stories first; entire events and conversations will not be repeated here. This chapter, Chapter One, follows the events of**_ **Amelia and the Time Trav** **eling** **Physicist** _ **. I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

 **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**

 **Chapter One**

* * *

It was a completely discombobulating experience. He felt dizzy and light-headed. He also felt euphoric, his heart racing with the possibility of something so longed for finally coming to fruition. The sensation buried deep within his body, to middle of his stomach, the middle of his brain, the very center of his heart. Although his shoes remained firmly in contact with the floor, he genuinely felt head over heels, turning, spinning, falling headlong into something he did not understand and yet wanted powerfully.

If someone had told Cooper that his first experience in his time machine would be the perfect metaphor for his first experience in the past, he would have scoffed at them.

But then he opened his eyes, his body sore, his heart racing, his mind confused and he saw her. Green eyes, brown braids, a face soft with concern, hard with indignation, open with curiosity. Her name was Amelia, and he had crashed into her. Literally, fugitively, emotionally, physically.

Perhaps he had a concussion from his crash. It would have explained so much that first day: why he accepted so readily where he was, why he didn't force her away in some fashion, why he told her things that in retrospect he shouldn't ever tell anyone he met in the past, why he let her attempt to help him with his repairs, why he asked her about love. However, even a concussion would not have explained why she stayed at his side, why she accepted his story so readily, why she asked such intelligent questions and hungrily believed everything he told her about the future, why she answered his intrusive questions.

He first felt it when she brushed his hand that afternoon. It was a clumsy action, obvious and conspicuous. Amelia flushed when he asked her if she was trying to feel his hand, and something within him wanted to put her at ease. Reassuring her that it was merely a scientific experiment, he let her hold his hand, her own palm grazing atop his, raising the hairs on the back of his neck, her fingertips resting over his, sending something coursing through his veins that felt familiar and powerful yet he was unable to name. Cooper watched her carefully as she looked down at his hand, and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Then she looked up and smiled softly, and he was forced to gulp away the sensation. He was struck by how young she was.

Over dinner, more devastated than he allowed himself to let on, he asked her questions so that her answers would distract him from the fear that he would forced to remain here forever. And, yet, something strange started to happen. She was a dreamer, yes. But she said things, she asked things, things of which she could not have been aware. Cooper knew that she, too, would be trapped here. He heard it between every word she said, there were hopes and dreams in those spaces for which she didn't even have the vocabulary. It made him ache in profound way, that it was perhaps worse to be boxed in by everything one has ever known and not even being aware of it, never comprehending a means of escape.

At least he could leave. He toyed with the broken part while sitting at her kitchen table, feeling guilty that he had this opportunity and she did not.

It was not like him to forget the need for a washcloth when getting in a bath. That, too, he attempted to blame on a possible concussion. Or the devastation and the guilt swirling in his head. But then he found himself naked, no washcloth in sight, and he swallowed. He was at her mercy. Just as he had been that morning, when she could have stabbed him with a pitchfork or however it was trespassers met their fate on the prairie. For he had no doubt that Amelia, with all her feistiness, could have hurt him if she chose to. And it was that knowledge, that he was both at her mercy and that he wanted to be, that frightened and excited him the most.

"Amelia? Is there a washcloth?"

It was an impulsive act, he could tell. He could see her turning red even as she knelt down and started to wash his naked body: the slow way she moved her arms, the slight deepening of her voice when she asked about his tee shirt and his underpants. He saw her look. Thank goodness the water was nippy.

Cooper, however, was not generally an impulsive man. He had been designing and building his time machine for over a year. He had been going to the gym on campus three days a week to build his body into fighting and running condition, should he need it. He had planned the first trip with care. It would be brief: land at an exact time, meet Isaac Newton, ask him one question that only he could answer, and come back with the reply. And, yet, he found something within Amelie's impulsiveness that loosened a knot within him. He took a deep breath, prayed for the first time ever that he had truly mastered his body, and impulsively stood.

"Will you do it?"

Afraid to speak, every fiber of his being taut and tense as the towel passed over his skin, not wanting to frighten her if he was unable to control himself -

"So tell me, Cooper, are the ways of physical love different in the future?"

He looked at her, hard. Did she even understand all that she was asking? Did she know the power she had over him now? Somehow, he found the strength to respond.

"Hooot," she breathed out and it was the sound of sex. Did she even know that? He bit the inside of lip until he tasted blood. It was not until she threw the towel at him, covering him, and Amelia had run to the barn that he let his body respond. And respond it did.

Afterwards, panting, still standing naked in the log cabin, he looked around, frantic with worry, not knowing what to do with the washcloth now. He certainly did not want to leave it lying around, for Amelia - or worse, someone her family - to discover it and its secrets when it needed washed. By hand. Even the idea made him shiver. Grabbing the handle to the oven, he almost burned his hand tossing it inside. The fire sizzled and hissed and popped and he worried the wet and abused washcloth would put it out, but as he watched the fire rebounded as the evidence of his actions went up in smoke.

Quickly, he dressed and sat down in the chair whose location he especially liked. He barely looked into the distance before the door opened and Amelia returned. His heart pounded when he thought about how close that had been. He managed to smile at her and ask her where he could sleep. He used the excuse that she might want a bath - which he actually thought would be true - to leave as soon as possible, to take his burning cheeks and spent loins away from her.

Settling into the mattress on his side, forcing himself not to think about bedbugs or lice or the thousand other insects that made up life on the frontier, his eyes getting heavy, exhausted from the day in which so much had changed, the gentle sound of lapping waves below as Amelia washed - His eyes snapped open.

No, it couldn't be. Another soft moan from below. It had to be. Fully awake now, he lay frozen as a succession of emotions rapidly washed over him. Disbelief (One moans for all sorts of reasons, it doesn't mean anything). Shock (Where and how had she learned about that?). Terror (Has she forgotten I'm here?). Mortification (Did she see me through the window?). Curiosity (Is she doing it because I am here?). Desire (Again?). Slowly, he rolled slightly. Without moving too much he could see her legs in the bathtub between the floorboards. If he shifted more he could probably - No, he would not do that. He was a gentleman. Or he had been before this evening. Before he could change his mind again, there was a cry and he saw her feet flex, sending a little bit of water splashing.

Cooper rolled over on his back with a smile. But when Amelia came up the ladder - scrambling he would have said - and got on the mattress near him, he could feel embarrassment radiating off of her. He wanted to take it from her, to have her know there was nothing embarrassing in what she had just done, that it was perfectly natural. He wanted her to know it was . . . erotic.

When she did not answer, he rolled to watch her by the light of the moon. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing still sounded shallow to him. He watched her hand gripping the very edge of her blankets, only a few feet away from him, clearly illuminated by a shaft of moonlight. He watched her hand, willing her to lower the blankets and invite him in.

* * *

By the morning light, the lust of the previous night gone, Cooper was only filled with remorse. He had learned, long ago, how to sneak out of bed silently, to watch reruns of _Carl Sagan's Cosmos_ on PBS before his annoying siblings got up to watch something mindless like cartoons. He went to sit by his time machine and think. He needed to get serious about leaving, he needed to formulate a solid plan. He was, literally, living on borrowed time. Amelia might be open-minded enough to accept him and his machine and his story, but when her family returned they probably wouldn't be so enlightened. He would ask her for more precise details about where one could acquire silver. Could he take a horse somewhere and procure it before time ran out? Maybe inquire if he could have some old clothes belonging to her father.

The word father made his stomach clench. Amelia was so young, and here he was, stealing her innocence with thoughts of the future and descriptions of physical love. As bad as the punishment was for trespassers, he was certain it was only worse for men who stole the innocence of another's daughter. What was happening to him? It was only lust, a physical attraction, brought on by the rush of adrenaline of fear caused by his crash. That was it, just an infatuation, it would leave as quickly as it arrived. And yet . . .

She came then, upon the autumn breeze, cheerful and, he noticed, clearly relieved that he was still there. Amelia had brought him breakfast. Touched by her generosity, not just about breakfast, but about everything, he offered her the only thing he had to offer: a clementine. It had seemed like a simple, kind, chaste gesture until she took a bite, shutting her eyes in bliss, moaning in pleasure, a ribbon of juice running down her chin.

Cooper felt it again when he reached over, almost on instinct, to wipe the juice away. No, this wasn't just lust. This was that same strange current, that intricate yet unnamable connection he had felt with her yesterday when she took his hand. He froze under its power. Fortunately, she broke the spell first and he leaned away. Amelia changed the subject, asking him about scientists, and he answered all her questions, grateful to be on safe, neutral ground once more.

Later, after baking the bread, lying in the sun in the grass, watching the clouds, listening to Amelia weave a story that floated away from them on gossamer wings, Cooper found it was not his loins that were aching. One of the most famous episodes of _Star Trek_ was 'The City on the Edge of Forever,' in which Kirk gets lost in the past and falls in love with Edith Keeler. Cooper had always liked the episode, but now he found the words coming to him. There, in the clouds, they saw the same things. There, in her words, they spoke the same language.

He told her that she had a gift for telling stories, but what he wanted her to hear was that he thought, maybe, just maybe, he was falling for her. When he took her hand and told her he couldn't stay, and he saw her brush a tear away out of the corner of his eye, he knew that she had understood him.

Lying still, they held hands in silence and watched the clouds. This simple act had a complex effect upon him. He had never been this content, resting, doing nothing, and certainly never with a female. There was Nicole, of course, although it had been a couple of months. But that wasn't the same at all. After their passion was spent, they would go to eat at a 24-hour diner near her apartment to replenish their strength, and they would loudly ask for separate checks so that there were no obligations to be assumed. The conversation was stilted, and Cooper often found himself eating too quickly, to both pass the time until he thought it was reasonable for him to leave and to have the excuse that his mouth was full. It seemed that without their costumes and their personas in the bedroom, there was no understanding between them. He wasn't ashamed, even when he received a text at nine o'clock at night and left his friends playing video games, jokes about booty calls ringing in his ears. It was the 21st-century after all. But it wasn't . . . fulfilling. Somehow those sweaty, grasping sessions made him feel lonely.

It occurred to him, lying there, that he felt understood and connected. But just like the tear Amelia had wiped away that he pretended not to notice, he knew this time, too, would have to be wiped away and ignored. He couldn't stay. She knew that, too. They both understood the reality of the situation.

But it wasn't until she had run out of the cabin crying, leaving her unused wedding ring behind, telling Cooper he wasn't bound to her, that he understood she loved him enough to help him escape.

* * *

Looking down at the ring, Cooper's heart pounded. He was conflicted. Obviously, this ring held great significance to her. It was an expensive item. And yet it was exactly what he needed. He knew he had the habit of clenching his back teeth when he fought determination, and he felt his jaw tense. Standing abruptly, he made a decision and refused to second-guess himself. Amelia had not given him this ring lightly, it was not a small action for her. She knew he needed silver last night and she had not offered it then. There were only two options: refuse this noble action, or accept it with the respect she deserved.

Grabbing a towel to protect his hand this time, he opened the oven door and stoked the fire. He lifted the few pots and pans, finding a cast iron skillet he thought had the most heft and would be able to withstand the extreme heat. Even the weakest cast iron had a melting point 188.22 degrees Celsius above silver, but it would be close. He added more logs, he even put the skillet in the fire. Waiting and sweating in the heat, he only allowed himself to think through everything he knew about the creation of circuit boards. His actions needed to careful, delicate, and precise as he only had one chance. A single mistake would not only ruin his changes of escape but would be like killing Amelia who had given him almost everything of herself in the past thirty-six hours. He shook his head, pushing her green eyes away from him.

For something so small, the effort required was so great that his jaw ached from the tension. He sat back and looked down at the circuit board and he knew he had succeeded. "Thank you, Amelia," he whispered. The rest of the melted silver was rapidly cooling, and, although it wasn't pleasant, he could touch it now. Rolling the last of it into a tiny, soft ball, he set it on the wooden table to harden. Starving now, he cut a slice of the bread they had made together and ate it. And then another. And another.

Where was Amelia? He wasn't concerned for her physical safety, as she had demonstrated her strength and knowledge of the frontier to him. But he knew she was somewhere, aching and hurting, and he longed to gather her in his arms for comfort. No, he would let her mourn in peace. And maybe it wasn't all for him, this mourning. It could be about the ring; it had to be a powerful reminder of an opportunity lost. Even if she had admitted she did not love the man she was to marry.

Cooper looked around the cabin and found a shelf with a row of books. He ran his hands along their spines, reading the titles. She was a reader, this Amelia. He wished he could give her all the books in the world. Would she ever believe that all the world's literature could be contained by one small electronic device? He pulled out a slender volume without a title on the spine. _Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus_. So she read science fiction, too. He smiled and put it back. On the shelf above was a much a larger book. Shakespeare's folio. His smiled widened when he remembered the way she had jutted her chin out when she proudly informed him she had won the graduation prize. Then he frowned, remembering how rude he had been in reply, asking her what words she didn't understand. That had been a mistake. Amelia clearly understood all the words. He lifted the heavy book up and took it over to the table, and it quickly fell open to Romeo and Juliet. The smile returned. Of course, star crossed lovers.

Waiting for Amelia, Cooper reread the play he hadn't read since that undergrad course on Shakespeare. He did not remember being so moved at the age of eleven. Only a few minutes of missed time brought these lovers to tragedy. Too people who shouldn't be together, who weren't meant to be together, and yet were destined for each other, torn apart by time. He took the ball of cooled silver and put in his pocket. A memory. Wiping his face, Cooper returned the folio to the shelf. He used the water from a jug to wash away his sweat the best he could, realizing how dark it had become while he had read. Debating once more, he decided not to go looking for Amelia. If she weren't in the barn, he wouldn't know where to search. And if she were in the barn, she was safe.

The events of the past two days crashed down on his shoulders, and he was suddenly so very tired. He considered climbing up the ladder, but he didn't want to lie that close to her again. It wouldn't be right. Once he had made the decision to allow her to help him escape, he needed to allow her to start moving forward without him. To spend another second in her sparkling presence would only make the inevitable more difficult when it came, as it had to come. He quickly undressed and crawled in to the bed in the corner, leaving the lamp lit on the table for Amelia, turning his face to the wall. It was better this way: no more interaction to break her heart, no more knowledge to pollute her timeline. She needed to finish growing up here, where she belonged, and find her own way in the world. Even if he strongly suspected this world was not large enough for her.

It was not long before he heard her return. Her small steps on the wooden floor first close to the table. She was inspecting his work, probably. The memory of her curiosity made him smile. Then he heard her come close to the bed, the shadows on the wall shifting as the lamp in her hand approached, and he tensed, waiting for her to speak. For a very long moment, nothing happened. Then he heard the lamp set on the bedside table and barely addible rustling noises. The noise got louder and he could no longer deny what was happening. Then the blankets were lifted and felt Amelia crawl in next to him. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited. Nothing happened.

Unable to bare it, the pounding, stabbing in his chest, he finally rolled and was surprised to find her hair freed down her back, its length facing him. As adorable as he thought her braids were, this sable colored waterfall was even better. Frightened, knowing he shouldn't, he reached up to touch it, to brush his fingers through it, and he noticed she shivered at this simple action. He pulled it away from her shoulder, and he had never seen such creamy skin, completely devoid of freckles. Of course, she would not have exposed her shoulders to the sun. He saw the slim lace trim, the tiny stitches of whatever her little undershirt was called. As he barely touched her shoulder, she shivered again and her breath came louder, heavier. He couldn't help himself, he ran his fingertips in furrows over her shoulder, clenching his jaw as he did.

This, he had not expected. Amelia was offering herself to him. But he had already taken so much from her: the enclave she had grown up in, some of her naiveté, her wedding ring, and her love. No, he couldn't not take this, this thing she could only ever give one person, this thing that was worth more than rubies and gold to a woman in the past.

He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Oh, Amelia. I can't take something else of such great worth from you tonight."

Feeling at peace with his decision, he relaxed behind her, although he allowed his hand to encircle her waist. He wanted to her know that it wasn't because he didn't care or to think that she was unattractive to him. It wasn't that his body didn't want her anymore. Quite the opposite. And it wasn't that if he were to be physical with her, that he wanted it to be somewhere else, under different circumstances, without the specter of parting, special for her . . . making love, he realized. That was very true. It was that something had changed during the day. Somewhere between holding hands in silence and melting her wedding ring in silence, something unsaid passed between them. And it was the loudest thing he had ever heard.

Until Amelia whispered in reply, "But I love you."

* * *

Dawn was just breaking over the horizon when he awoke, his arm still wrapped about Amelia. The warmth and peace there almost lulled him back to sleep. He'd never spent all night sleeping next to someone before, certainly someone he - no, he needed to leave. Although it was difficult, Cooper managed to slither silently out of bed. Amelia rolled over and murmured something, but she didn't wake.

After he dressed, he watched her sleeping in the dusky light for a moment, her hair tangled around her head. Even just watching her sleeping form, he felt that knot inside himself loosen a little further. He had decided, last night, that the kindest thing he could do would be to leave her without a further word, without another utterance to bind them even closer together. But in the half-light of dawn, it felt cruel.

He looked around the cabin and his eyes settled on Shakespeare's folio. Two people who shouldn't be together, who weren't meant to be together, and yet were destined for each other, torn apart by time. Quickly finding a pencil on the book shelf, he located the passage he wanted and underlined it, leaving the book open on the table where she'd surely see it. In his stocking feet, his shoes in his hand, his circuit board in his pocket, he turned back one last time in the door way and blew a kiss to Amelia's sleeping form. It was an uncharacteristic, sentimental action, he knew, but it was all he had to give her now.

Although he had planned to leave as soon as possible, it was still too dim to see the interior of his machine properly. Alignment was essential. He sat on the hill, watching the sun rise, and he ate his last clementine.

 _But I love you._

Cooper could still hear the words in his head, echoing and reverberating. Startled and unsure, he had not replied. To reply would only wound her deeper. And yet . . . He wished he could have left her with something other than memory. He had her silver and her heart. She had only memories and dreams. Angry now, at himself, at the world, at the unfairness of it all, he spat the last section of clementine out on the ground. Yesterday, it was sweet; today, it was only bitter.

He rummaged in his machine and pulled out a small notebook and pencil. Occupying his mind, he double-checked his calculations. He estimated his current latitude and longitude from the angle of the sun, and factored those in, busying him mind with even the tiniest of tweaks he would have to make to arrive back at his apartment the day after he left. In the distance, he thought he heard a horse whiney, but he ignored it.

Finally, unable to find anything else to quadruple check, he put his note book away, adjusted the dials and the knobs, and lifted the silver skin of his machine. He took the circuit board out of his pocket and a stream of light caught the new silver repair. A bubble of something caught in his throat. In a sense, he was taking Amelia with him; this gift she had given him, this potent and profound gift, would forever be a part of his machine, a part of his future, a part of his life. Taking a deep breath, he slid it into place.

"Cooper!"

The wind was strong this morning, and it sounded like his past calling to him. Or was it his future? He turned and saw her there, a shawl pulled tightly around her torso. Only able to nod slightly, he turned back to double checking the alignment, wiggling things to makes sure they were snug. He could not turn around and face her. Then she walked even closer, and he thought he could feel her heat, feel her love, as though his arm was still wrapped about her under the quilt. Amelia seemed to permeate the very air swirling around them. She should not be here. He should not be here. Two people that shouldn't together, who weren't meant to be together. And yet . . .

Juliet. Time. Edith Keeler. Time. Amelia. Time. Destiny. _I love you, too._

Turning sharply, he took her hand and said, "I can't stay, but I will never forget you." Allowing himself to brush his fingers along her cheek, he just as sharply stepped into his time machine. Just before he turned the key, he heard her whisper, "Please don't go."

As the engine hummed to life, he saw her out the open door, turning her back. There was were little movements of her shoulder, and he knew she wiping away tears.

 _I love you, too._ Destiny. Time. Amelia. The future. Someday, he would say those words to her. Just like that, even though she hadn't said it first. He wanted to say it to her that way every day for the rest of his life. _I love you, too._ So she knew he heard the words her very heartbeats uttered, even upon the winds of time and destiny, even upon this cold November morning.

Before his lost his nerve, he stepped out and spun her around, into his outstretched arms.

"What about the future?" asked Amelia.

He looked deeply into her eyes and whispered, "There is no future without you."

He pulled her in close. She began to tremble all over. Cooper leaned closer to her face, aching to kiss her.

"I thought you didn't belong here," she said, staring into his eyes.

"I don't. But I think you don't either."

Destiny. He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. Amelia tensed for a moment in his arms and then he felt her relax and lean toward him. This kiss felt just like landing two morning prior had: the sensation was buried deep within his body, to middle of his stomach, the middle of his brain, the very center of his heart. On instinct, he opened his mouth and traced her lips. Amelia did not immediately respond, but then her mouth opened slightly. Restraining himself, Cooper did not press her further, he did not want to frighten her. Instead, he breathed his every wish into her mouth: the future, the power of his love, giving her this piece of himself, from his lungs to hers.

Devoid of air, devoid of willpower, and also devoid of all the loneliness he suddenly realized he'd felt his entire life, he pulled away, still holding her shoulders, looking down into her beautiful green eyes. "It will not be easy, I think. It is not peaceful like this time on the prairie. It is much louder. On the other hand, there is indoor plumbing and video games and pasteurized milk and double the life expectancy and fifty states in the union. I'm sorry there is not more time, you must make up your mind now. I think there is only one leap possible with this crude repair."

"Is there summer all year long? And you?" Amelia asked.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he felt the knot coming completely untied. "Please come," he whispered. "I love you, too."

Amelia bit her lip, and for a second - a horrible, tearing, aching second - Cooper thought she would say no. "How long do I have?"

Cooper's brow furrowed. "Not long. Certainly not more than ten minutes."

"Wait! Don't leave!" she yelled and ran away from him before he could reply. He watched her go, pumping her arms over the hill, and an icy fear filled his veins.

He should not have told her ten minutes! What if it was closer to five? After all, only a few minutes of missed time brought Romeo and Juliet to tragedy. And only a split second tore Edith Keeler out of Kirk's life. Cooper raced back into his machine, and franticly tried to think of anything he could do to slow this down. He could not stop it now. At best, the damaged circuit board would break even further, beyond repair, and he really would be trapped here; at worst it would catch fire and he could die in an explosion. Distressed and hectic, he ran his fingers through his hair.

'Please, Amelia, please. Come back to me. Come back to the future with me,' he silently begged whatever force in the universe would listen to him. He meant what he said, there was no future without her.

He started to feel a faint vibrating sensation and a slow, building whine from the engine. Dismayed and panicked, he put a foot out, upon the prairie, even though he knew if the machine left when his like that it would be amputated. But he wanted to touch something solid, something that Amelia had touched and loved, just as he loved her.

Suddenly, she was there, racing toward him, struggling with her folio. Through the window, she seemed to be shimmering, the edges of her body becoming hazy and indistinct as she ran. At the last possible moment, he put his hand out to her. When she touched him, he felt the fluid vibrations run up his arm, and he suddenly realized what that sensation was. It was the feeling of temporal bounds loosening, time becoming fluid, spans bleeding together, one season becoming another. It was time passing between them, looping on itself, connecting. But Amelia, his Amelia for all time!, was not frightened, was not alarmed. Of course she wouldn't be. Why did he ever doubt her? Not his impulsive, intelligent, ambitious Amelia.

She smiled at him with the force of the Kansas sun and stepped in next to him. He just managed to pull he door shut behind her before they twisted headlong into their future together.

* * *

 _ **Fair warning, the updates here will probably be slower than with my other stories. But I do plan on continuing to mirror each Amelia story with time.**_

 _ **Thank you in advance for your reviews!**_


	2. Magic Slate 1

_**This chapter and the next (Chapters Two and Three) follow the events of**_ **Amelia and The Magic Slate** _ **. I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

 **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

It was a rough landing. Later, he would think it was yet another metaphor. There was an unusual clicking sound at the end, the whining seemed louder than he thought it should, and, even though he was holding her against his chest, Amelia repeatedly slammed into him as the time machine skidded and thumped to a halt. Once it stopped, they were met with the smell of burning electronics so strong it made Cooper's eyes water. He open the door cautiously, glancing around his empty apartment through the smoke, fearful of when they landed. All looked in order, but he needed to get to his phone to check the date -

"I'm going to be sick," Amelia said with groan, the type that was already thick and wet with bile.

"Come on!" Cooper pulled her along to the bathroom as quickly as he could and barely got the toilet lid up before she purged into it. He held her braids while she vomited and even through the retching sounds of dry heaves that followed. He tried his best to ignore the sickly stench. At last, she stopped.

"Do you still feel sick?" he asked.

Amelia shook her head weakly. "I don't think so."

"Don't move, stay like this, I'm going to go get you some water," he instructed. He ran out of the bathroom and poured a large glass of water at the kitchen sink.

Poor Amelia had compiled, still kneeling, clutching the edge of the toilet bowl even though it meant she was looking down into that mess.

"Here, swish it around and then spit it out," Cooper said. Amelia took the water and did as he requested. "Okay, you can sit back." On instinct, Cooper reached up to flush the toilet.

Yelping, Amelia attempted to back away, the soles of her boots scraping the vinyl flooring. Her breath was coming fast and loud.

"I'm sorry! I forgot." Cooper took a deep breath. "It's a toilet. An indoor outhouse. And the force of the water makes the sewage drain. It actually exists in your time, in big cities." He held his hands out wide. "I guess this is as a good a place as any to start the tour. This is the bathroom. There's a bathtub behind this curtain -" he waved "- and here's the sink. Do you think you can stand?"

Amelia nodded, her eyes still wide. Cooper put out his arms and she stood. She was so very pale. "How about some tea? It might settle your stomach."

"Yes," she whispered.

His arm protectively around her, Cooper led her to the living room, the time machine still gasping and smoking in the corner by the window. Amelia coughed. "Here, sit down," Cooper said, leading her to the sofa, "I'll open the window and get your tea."

Lurching, Amelia grabbed the left edge of the sofa and started to sit down. "Oh, no - not there. Sorry." Cooper helped her move toward the middle.

Once she was settled, he crossed over to the landing and behind his machine to open the window. He was surprised to see the sun already touching the western horizon. There was fan on the bookshelf there, and he rearranged things so it was blowing the smoke outside. Already, the smell was lessening. Glancing at Amelia, so pale, so still, he went to the kitchen to put the kettle on before taking down two mugs and putting peppermint tea bags in both. "Amelia?"

"Huh?" she looked up it, her face slack.

"Do you still feel nauseous?"

"I'm - I'm not sure," she finished weakly.

The kettle whistled and Cooper busied himself making the tea before carrying the mugs over to the sofa. He sat them both down, gave a soft sound of satisfaction as he felt his spot around him once more, and then reached for his phone on the end table. He exhaled when he saw the date. "Good news, we landed on the correct date. Later in the day than I wanted, but that's an acceptable standard deviation."

He put his phone back down and turned toward Amelia. She was taking slow, quiet sips, staring out in front of her, but at least her color was returning. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you," she said.

"Sorry about the rough landing."

She shrugged.

"So, this room is called the living room. And the kitchen is over there, of course," Cooped said, shuffling his feet.

"There's a lot of things," Amelia said.

"Oh." Cooper looked around at all the furniture, the electronics, his collectibles, the gadgets of everyday life. Compared to Amelia's sparsely clean cabin, it did look cluttered. "I guess so."

"Cooper?" She finally turned to look at him. "I think I might feel better if I ate something," she said.

"Oh! Of course!" He leaned forward and set his mug on the coffee table. "How selfish of me. Did you even have breakfast?" She shook her head. "How about I introduce you to those chocolate chip pancakes?"

It was a weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. "That sounds wonderful."

As he mixed the ingredients at the island, Cooper watched Amelia, sitting still in the middle of the sofa, turning her heard first one way and then another, looking around slowly. "You can get up if you feel like it. Look at things."

Amelia stood and at first seemed unsure where to go, but then she headed to the bookcase behind the sofa. She leaned down and started to run her fingers along the spines of the books, making Cooper smile. Disappointed he couldn't watch, he went to the corner to cook the pancakes on the stove.

"What are all these books about?" he heard Amelia ask.

"Mostly physics or mathematics. A little bit of history."

"What's physics?"

"The most wonderful and useful branch of science of them all!" Cooper said, putting the first set of pancakes on a plate. "In the most simple terms, it's the study of matter and how matter moves through space and time."

"Gravity? Is that why you were going to see Issac Newton, to ask him about the apple falling on his head?"

Cooper grinned as he poured more batter. This Amelia! She never ceased to surprise him! "No, I had a question about optics. And that story is a myth."

"That's a shame." A long pause, then Amelia called, "You study geology, too?"

"Geology!" Cooper said. "How did I get a geology book?" He sighed. Leo must have left it behind. "Yes, even I was forced to take an Earth sciences class once."

Just as he flipped the second set of pancakes, he heard a scream. Running around the refrigerator, he found Amelia standing in front of the open window, on the other side of the time machine, her hand to her mouth. Running, he said, "What's wrong?"

Only when he looked out did he realize his error. All of Pasadena was spread out before them, four stories down, cars whizzing by in the sunset. It was a very beautiful sight, but also, he understood too late, a frightening sight for one unprepared for a modern city. He pulled Amelia in tight, shielding her face against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't think -"

"How high are we?" she whispered.

"Four stories. About forty-five feet."

"And the city?" she mumbled.

"Los Angles. Technically, just a small part of Los Angles."

"I'm okay." Amelia's pushed away and looked up at him. "I was just surprised."

Cooper nodded and then noticed the smell of overcooked food. "The pancakes!"

Rushing back to the kitchen, he rescued the last batch just in time. One side was a little too brown, but he'd eat those. Making Amelia another mug of tea, he sat the plates on the island and invited her over. She ate slowly, and they didn't speak much. Finally, Amelia pushed her plate away.

"Cooper?" He looked at her. "I need to . . . does it work . . . I just use it like the outhouse?" She blushed and turned away.

Wiping his face with a napkin, Cooper again felt foolish and cruel for overlooking yet another essential item. "Yes. Remember how I flushed it earlier?" She nodded. "When you're done, you do that and it drains away."

"And, Cooper? I'm tired."

It could be pointed out that it was probably only mid-morning at the latest. But the sun was setting here and even Cooper would have admitted he was exhausted. And he hadn't just ran away with a stranger from the future, leaving behind all he knew and loved, facing all sorts of bizarre sights and technologies.

"Would you like to take a bath and go to bed?" he asked.

"Oh, can I have a bath? It's not too much trouble?"

Cooper smiled. "Not at all." He tilted his head. "Go use the toilet, and I'll get you something to sleep in."

Once he was standing in his bedroom, it registered that he had nothing that she would be accustomed to wearing. Yet something else he hadn't considered. What would Amelia wear? How would she brush her hair? What if she needed, he frowned, feminine hygiene products? He didn't know the first thing about woman's clothing, and Amelia was in no state for him to take her shopping. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he pulled out a clean set of his pajamas and a matching robe.

Standing in the hallway, he heard the toilet flush and the sound of the sink. Then Amelia opened the door. He held out the stack of clothing. "I'm sorry, it's all I have for you to wear. They're too big, but they're clean. Here, let me start the tub."

After pulling back the shower curtain, he turned on the faucet and explained the hot and cold, that she could use his shampoo and soap for now. Then, as the bathtub filled, he got her a towel and a washcloth out of the cabinet.

"Cooper, these are pants?" Amelia said, and he turned around to see her holding up his plaid pajama bottoms. "You sleep in pants?"

"Of course - oh. Nightshirts have gone out fashion here long ago," he explained. "They may be big enough you don't have to wear the pants, if you don't want to. There's a robe there to cover up with."

For a second, the image of Amelia wearing just his pajama top flashed before his eyes, and he forced it away. But it reminded him of another obvious factor he had overlooked. Should he ask her to sleep in his bed? It felt so wonderful, waking up wrapped around her. But no, it felt wrong. Some sort of chivalrous code stopped him. The idea of even insinuating that to her now that she was here, even accidentally implying that was why he had asked her to come . . . he shivered at the thought. Amelia needed to adjust to the present on her own terms, and, later, when she was ready . . .

"Here, test this water temperature," he instructed. Amelia put her hand in and nodded. "Okay, I'll leave you to it." He wondered what she would say, if she expected him to stay and bathe her just as she had him. But, again, no. "I'm going to go make up your bed."

He waited for her to nod deeply, and he knew that she understood him. There were no obligations here.

Leaving her, he went to get some clean sheets and spare blankets to make up Leo's old bed. His best friend and former roommate had moved across the hall to live with Penelope just last month, and, although he had taken his clothes and personal belongings, his furniture had stayed behind given the lack of space and need in the other apartment. Cooper had grumbled a bit at the time, but now he was grateful.

While Amelia bathed, he checked his email and sent one to work, stating he was taking the rest of the week off for a personal emergency. Just as he was cleaning up their dinner dishes, he heard the bathroom door open and Amelia called for him.

"Yes?" he rounded the corner and she was wearing his pajamas and robe, the robe knotted tightly around her and the pajama pants rolled up at the cuffs. She was holding her dress, folded, in one hand and her boots in the other.

"Is it true the water spins in the opposite direction in Australia?" she asked.

Smiling, Cooper said. "It's random. It has to do with suction and the force of the water as it drains down the pipes into the sewer system. Some people claim it has to do with the Coriolis effect, but that's a myth that -" He stopped when he noticed how tired she looked standing there. "That's a myth that's better saved for another day. Do you feel ill again? Maybe pancakes weren't the best idea. I should have made plain toast."

Amelia shook her head. "I'm just tired."

"Here, let me show you your room." Cooper waved toward the end of the hall and Amelia followed. "I'm sorry it's so empty and plain. Leo just moved out."

He watched her as she walked around the room, running her fingers along the top of the dresser and the empty book shelf. "No, I like it. It's simple." She smiled at him, then asked, "What is this?"

"A closet. You can hang your dress there, if you like." Cooper helped her hang up her belongings and shut the door on them. "I've devised a plan to get you more clothes and . . . things. Then we can wash this one." She nodded. "Shall I leave you now to sleep?" She nodded again.

Suddenly feeling like he was a trespassing stranger once more, he put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a brief peck on her cheek. "Amelia? I'm so very happy you're here with me. But I want you to know this room can be yours, just yours, as long as you want it to be."

She looked up and smiled softly at him. "Thank you."

"Of course. Sweet dreams."

Turning, shutting the door behind him, he went back to the living room and set up his whiteboard, preparing to work on his calculations, starting to figure out what could have gone wrong. After working for a half-hour or so, he went to listen at Amelia's door. All was quiet and he hoped she had fallen asleep.

Knowing both that the next step was unavoidable and that it was imperative for Amelia's comfort, he crossed the hall and knocked on Leo and Penelope's door. Leo opened it, with Penelope's face just beyond his shoulder.

"You're back! What happened?" Penelope asked right before Leo said, "Did you -"

"There's a girl sleeping in my apartment that I brought back from the past," Cooper interrupted him. "Her name is Amelia. Penelope, I will require your assistance tomorrow in obtaining her clothing and other feminine accruements. Be at my apartment at 9:00 a.m. Dress conservatively, not in any of your Nebraskan slut wear. Good-bye." He turned on his heel to leave.

"Hey, wait!" Leo yelled. Cooper stopped in the hallway and turned, sighing. Well, it had been a good effort.

"There's a what in your where who came from when?" Penelope asked, her eyes the widest he'd ever seen them. Which was saying a lot, as Penelope was able to make her eyes rounder and bigger than anyone else he knew.

"There's a girl sleeping in my apartment that I brought back from the past. Her name is Amelia," Cooper repeated.

"I think you'd better come in," Leo said, opening the door wider, sweeping his free arm out.

He knew what would happen next. He sat in the spare chair while they sat the sofa, facing him to pepper him with questions. Or bullets like a firing squad.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Leo said.

"But leave out all the sciencey stuff," Penelope added.

Clearing his throat, Cooper told them the story, leaving out most of his scientific observations; he needed to formulate some hypotheses first, anyway, about what went wrong. He also left out any references to bathing, nudity, or sleeping in the same bed. Pleased with his concise and mostly accurate tale, he sat back and waited for the barrage of questions.

"Great galloping horses," Penelope said with a low whistle. She turned to Leo, "Got to admit I didn't see that coming."

Leo just nodded, his brow deeply furrowed.

"Anyway," Cooper said, standing, "she only came with the clothes on her back. She needs everything. Clothes, hairbrush, whatever it is you ladies spend all your money on." The word money reminded him and he pulled out his wallet to give Penelope his credit card. "I'll just give this to you now. Whatever she needs. You might start thinking of a list. Conservative clothes, of course, that's what she's used to. Covering her body. Skirts. Long sleeves."

"I finally get Cooper's credit card and I have to buy grandma clothes," Penelope whined.

"That's probably an excellent idea," Cooper said. "I knew you were just the person for the job."

Glancing once more at Leo's frozen form, Cooper said, "Nine? Knock first, please."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world," Penelope said.

Crossing the hall, Cooper opened his own apartment door and was immediately met with the sound of a scream from the spare bedroom. Running, his heart racing, he opened the door and saw Amelia thrashing on the bed.

"Amelia! Amelia! Wake up!" Uncertain exactly what to do, he pulled her toward him, squeezing her tight in his arms and rocking with her, shushing in her ear. Finally the screams subsided and, almost as painful to hear, sobbing began. Great racking sobs that make it hard for him to hold on to her.

"Amelia, please stop. Please," he whispered. "Whatever it is, it's okay now. I'm here. Shhhh, I'm here."

"What - is - it?" she hiccuped between sobs. "I - heard - it."

"What is what?" Cooper strained his ears and he thought he could make out a siren in the distance, progressively growing quieter. "The siren, maybe? It's okay. It's just -" He took a deep breath. "- well, it's complicated. Can I explain it tomorrow? Will you trust me when I tell you it's okay and it can't hurt you? Nothing is going to hurt you here."

She nodded into his chest, and he rocked with her some more until her convulsive gasps quieted some. "Let me get you some water," he whispered.

He returned with a large glass and advised only small sips. Then he encouraged her to lie back down, and he smoothed his hand down her damp hair until he thought she was asleep again.

Cooper tucked the blankets back around her and shut the door behind him. Adrift, he took a shower, an act that normally soothed him and made him feel whole again. Tonight, he only felt marginally cleaner. He debated about starting work on his time machine, but he didn't want to wake Amelia. Shoulders drooping, he put on his pajamas and crawled into his own bed, wary and aching, reasoning he needed to get back on the correct time as soon as possible. But he tossed and turned without sleep, rubbing his face periodically, sighing deeply, listening to the sounds of the apartment and the city around him, sounds he had never noticed or thought about before but that seemed to be constant now.

Mostly, though, he worried that he'd lied, that he had irreparably hurt Amelia just by bringing her here.

* * *

Everything seemed better the next morning. Surprised at how late he slept, past his usual well-ingrained early wake up time, Cooper was pleased when Amelia emerged not long after. She was dressed and her hair was braided again, even if the plaits weren't as smooth and as shiny as they had been. Yes, definitely a hair brush.

"Good morning. Do you like oatmeal?" he asked.

"Yes." Then she stepped closer. "May I help?"

Cooper helped her make the oatmeal, smiling at her delight at the instantaneous flame of the stove, her curiosity as she studied the package. "Banana?" he asked.

"I've never had one. I've heard of them," she replied. After they sat down with their bowls, he showed her how to start the peel before he handed one over to her. She tore down the peel, looked at it moment, and then put it up to her mouth.

"No," he chuckled. "No one eats a banana sideways. Like this." He demonstrated with his own banana.

"How odd," Amelia said, but she smiled and followed along. Swallowing, she said, "Mmmm, this is good."

After a couple of bites, he asked, "Remember last night when I said I had a plan to get you more clothes?" Amelia nodded. "My friend - and neighbor, she lives across the hall - is coming over this morning. I thought you could tell her what you needed and she could go buy it. She's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she's kind and surprisingly helpful at times. And she grew up in Nebraska, so you'll have that in common. You can talk about pigs or something. Is that acceptable?"

"Oh, yes! I've never had a store bought dress before!"

Cooper took a deep breath. "As you probably guessed from my clothing, fashion is different now. They won't be what you're used to."

At that exact moment, there was a knock on the door. "That will be her."

But when he opened the door it was both Penelope and Leo. "What are you doing here?" he asked his shorter friend.

"I'm not missing this for the world," Leo said.

Grunting, Cooper opened the door. Awkwardly, he introduced Amelia to his friends. He was pleased to note that Penelope was wearing a decent dress and even held a tape measure in her hand, forcing him to silently admit he was impressed.

"Sweetie, it's so good to meet you!" Penelope said, pulling a very surprised Amelia into a bear hug.

"I forgot to mention overly-affectionate," Cooper mumbled to Amelia when the hug broke apart. He turned to Leo, "I assume you want to see the machine."

"It's not the primary thing I came to see, but sure."

Shooting him a dirty look, Cooper led his friend to the machine, opening its shell, showing him what he believed went wrong. They discussed the mechanics for a bit, until there was a natural lull in the conversation.

Then Cooper heard Amelia say, "What's a bra?"

"Come on, let's give these ladies some privacy," Leo suggested loudly. Cooper looked at him and then at Amelia on the sofa, who met his eyes and nodded her consent. Leo was probably correct, they needed privacy to discuss undergarments and such.

"Very well." Moving across the hallway and entering after Leo opened the door, Cooper was met with the sight of Herman and Rajeev sitting on the blue sofa. Shooting Leo the evil eye, Cooper said, "Odd, I thought you all had to work today."

"Dude! Leo said you brought a girl back from the past and she's trapped in your apartment!" Rajeev blurted out.

"Ah, you've been told." Another evil glance at Leo, who just shrugged. "Hasn't this all been nicely arranged?"

"You were going to have to tell them sometime," Leo said.

"First of all, she is not 'trapped' in my apartment," Cooper said, crossing him arms. "Secondly, she has a name, and it is Amelia."

"Really? We heard you've already taken the week off work to stay home with her." Herman asked, then he raised his voice, "'It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.'"

"I do not care to understand what that means." Cooper sighed over the snickers and crossed to sit in the spare chair. Deciding this had to happen at some point, he repeated the same abridged version of events he had given to Leo and Penelope the night before.

Rajeev turned to Leo as he finished his tale. "You've seen her? And the machine? It's all true?"

"Yep, just now."

Cooper put his hands on the arms of the chair. "If you're all satisfied, I'll be returning -"

"Wait!" Leo put a hand out. "All joking aside, what is your long term plan? She just can't stay in your apartment forever. And, even though you probably have months of vacation time to burn through, you have to go back to work at some point."

"How are you going to tell people you met, then, if she's not trapped?" Herman asked.

Cooper shrugged and said, "I guess we'll just tell people we were matched by one of those Internet dating sites, met at a coffee shop, and hit it off so much she moved in."

"Okay, so that covers the you barely know her part," Leo said. "But it's not the same. If you did meet on the Internet, she could just move back out. But she's a stranger here. What if - well, what if it doesn't work out?"

"Yeah, have you slept together?" Herman asked.

Feeling like he just might run out of them today, Cooper shot Herman a dirty look. "No, we haven't slept together. I do have self-control. And respect. Additionally, it just wasn't done in Amelia's time, not before marriage."

"So what is she going to do for the next couple of years while you date?" Rajeev asked.

"Well, I'm . . . " Cooper paused. It was one thing to realize on one's own, in the middle of the night, that a plan was poorly formed. It was another to admit this shortcoming to his friends. They were correct, of course; it wouldn't be fair to Amelia to maintain the status quo for very long. An initial adjustment period without too many futuristic shocks thrown at her, yes; longterm life, no. He thought of her beautiful eyes, her laughter, her inquisitiveness, her impulsiveness, the warmth of her body when he held her tight, how she made him feel - looser, more relaxed, comfortable. Yes, that was it. Comfortable. He loved her for that. He loved her. Swallowing, he whispered, "I'm going to marry her. As soon as she'll have me."

Crickets. Pins drooping.

"Whoa," Rajeev finally said.

"Cooper, are you sure? That's a _huge_ step," Leo said softly.

"No, the huge step was helping her into my time machine. This -" he shrugged "- this is how it was destined to be."

"Are you crying?" Herman turned to Rajeev.

"It's just so beautiful," Rajeev sniffed. "Like a real life episode of _Doctor Who_!"

"Okay, if we accept that - Bernice is going to die when I tell her! - you still have to think about the logistics," Herman said. "How do you think you'll get a marriage license without a birth certificate. Or, well, anything, right?"

A murmur went around.

"I'm sure Rajeev could help arrange it," Cooper said.

"Hey! I'm here legally!" he protested.

"I was actually thinking of that creepy girl you used to date - you know, the one with red hair? The one that was all wrong for you and we thought was going to kill you? What was her name? Emeline? She's bound to have some contacts in the criminal underworld," Cooper said.

Everyone shivered.

"No, don't make Rajeev do that again. She probably has a bottle of lotion with his name on it," Herman said. "I think I know a guy. I mean, he more deals in things like stolen chemicals, but I think he would at least know another guy."

"Am I the only one concerned we're talking about breaking the law here?" Leo said, taking a deep intake from his inhaler. "Not to mention how crazy this whole thing is! It's insane you're taking this so seriously. Some intervention this is!"

"But it's for true love!" Rajeev said. "Remember when you thought you'd never get Penelope, and we all believed in you?"

Cooper smiled, never loving his friends more than he did in this moment. After a pause, Leo grinned, too, that silly grin he always gave when he thought about Penelope. "Okay, I'm in." He sat on the coffee table and they huddled closer. "So, a birth certificate and a social security card, right? That should be enough?"

They all nodded. "Amelia is her first name. What's her last name?" Herman asked, taking out his phone to take notes.

"It doesn't matter," Cooper said. "It will be Shelton and that's all that matters."

"Seriously? More crying?" Herman turned to Rajeev again. He shook his head and turned back. "And her birthday? I mean, she's approximately what? thirty? thirty-five? We probably can't be too picky, but it needs to seem realistic."

Clearing his throat, Cooper said, "Younger."

Herman raised his eyebrows. "Twenty-five-ish?"

Cooper shook his head.

Leo punched him in the arm. "You cradle robbing, dog, you!"

* * *

The days were delightful. Amelia came out of her shocked shell and ravenously devoured everything new. She looked adorable in her new cardigans and shorter skirts, and he never thought a lump of wool could be so alluring. Her eyes sparkled over the tiniest things Cooper had long since taken for granted, like light switches. She was constantly amazed and thrilled, and, when she was especially taken by or surprised by some new thing, she make this soft little "Oh" sound before she spoke, and Cooper wanted to hear it every day for the rest of his life.

He dug out his old American History textbook, and she set to work with a studiousness and industriousness that thrilled him. She asked intelligent questions, she listened thoughtfully when he answered, and she even asked for a pencil and paper to work on the questions at the end of each chapter.

"It's not a class, you know," Cooper said, even as he handed a notebook over to her. "You don't have to do that, it's not that important. There's no test."

"It's even more important than that," Amelia said.

She exclaimed over every new invention she read about: the automobile, the airplane, the radio. To demonstrate, he selected a classics stream for her and taught her the waltz one evening after dinner, which she mastered quite deftly. He promised to teach her all the other dances he knew and not just to enjoy the feeling of her in his arms.

Once, he found her sitting quite still, silent tears running down her face. "What's wrong?" He went quickly to sit by her side. She pushed the book over to him and he saw the photos of the gaunt prisoners in their striped garb, the stacks of skeletal bodies. "Oh."

"I just don't understand," she whispered. "Why?"

Cooper put his arm around her and whispered back, "Sometimes not knowing why is the only answer."

She worked so hard, he downloaded a novel to his iPad and watched her, amazed, as he taught her how to use it. "You need to enjoy yourself, too."

Amelia alternated between novels that she read at an alarming rate and her studies. Cooper even overnighted another, more advanced history textbook from Amazon for her. She was insatiable for knowledge. Sometimes, she had complex questions, and he set up his whiteboard and taught her about historical tangents or economics. Other days, he worked on his time machine or work projects while she studied quietly, taking breaks to look over at her bent head of hair. One day, they spent a total of six and half hours in silence and it was magical, far more magical than he could have imagined being in the same room with some one but not speaking could be.

He had decided not to turn on the television yet, letting her read and listen to the radio for a few days, so in the evenings they talked, sometimes about her studies, sometimes about the time machine, sometimes about other things she might encounter and discover in this life. Or they sat next to each other and read.

With her there, he found himself smiling and laughing more, his jaw clenching less. Once or twice he even giggled at some misstep or point of confusion for Amelia, he just couldn't help it. But she didn't shy away from him, upset or angry. She merely accepted it, squared her shoulders, and put on her determined face. She dedicated herself to this new life, and he found her strength of character just as alluring as her impulsiveness and naiveté. She was bold and motivated, and Cooper knew that if he didn't love her on the prairie, he most certainly did now. He was relaxing into her.

But the nights . . . the nights were another thing altogether. He had considered, that first night she awoke screaming and crying, staying in bed with her or inviting her to his, but, again, he decided that would be a mistake. He had made a promise to Amelia and he meant it. As he had told his friends, they would do something as old-fashioned as get married first. The idea was somehow greatly appealing to him, that level of life-long devotion, the promise of forever, the saving of yourself for your one true love.

So, instead, he would kiss her chastely on the forehead or cheek, wish her pleasant dreams, and lie awake in his bed, waiting for the invariable screams. Once or twice, he actually fell asleep first, the last thought he had being that surely the night terrors were over, but then he would be ousted from a deep sleep by the sounds of horror next door. Every night, he rocked her and soothed her, holding her tightly in her flannel nightgown, brushing his hand over her hair. Once Amelia calmed, he went back to his bed and failed to sleep yet again, doubting himself, doubting the actions he had taken, doubting this entire enterprise. As the nights wore on, he became angry at himself, that he had been so foolish and selfish when he had brought her here, where she was obviously terrified and didn't belong. He felt guilt knot up inside his chest again, those strands he thought Amelia had the power to loosen, certain in the dark that his mistake had the power to ruin both of their lives, if it hadn't already.

Finally, after six wonderful days and six sleepless nights, Cooper made a decision. They genuinely needed groceries anyway, and he thought it might be fun to introduce Amelia to modern take-out food. That was the explanation he gave to her. At the jewelry store, the clerk tried to talk him into something larger, with a diamond or at least made of platinum. Cooper was firm: pure silver, very thin. Satisfied with his selection, he pulled the little ball of silver out of his pocket. "Can you divide this and make it into two rings? One just like the one I picked -" he pointed "- and a larger but matching ring? A man's ring? I understand you will need to augment it with new silver."

Assured that they could, the clerk said, "We could use it to size up a smaller ring. But it would be cheaper just to buy two new rings. There would be labor costs associated with using this."

Cooper shook his head. "No, it has to be this silver. In equal amounts, in each ring. It's - it's very sentimental," he mumbled at the end, feeling hot admitting that to a stranger.

The clerk smiled, though, and asked, "Would you like to order it?"

Thinking of his decision, the outcome of his plan still unknown, Cooper paused. But then he nodded. "I know this is an usual request, but could you do it today? On your website it said you always have a jeweler on site. In an hour or so. I'll pay extra. Cost isn't an issue."

His eyebrows high, the clerk said, "Let me go find out from our jeweler."

Returning after getting the groceries, the rings were still slightly warm to the touch. He paid, thanked them profusely, and went to pick up the pizza. Now, regardless of Amelia's decision, they would always share this ring, resting above their heart lines, even if he never told her he had it, even if she never saw it on his hand. This silver that had traveled with them, that had helped them escape, that had bound them together in time.

* * *

 _ **Thank you in advance for your reviews!**_


	3. Magic Slate 2

_**This chapter and the previous (Chapters Two and Three) follow the events of**_ **Amelia and The Magic Slate** _ **.**_

* * *

 **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

Cooper closed his eyes before he said it, feeling his jaw clench. He needed to be firm, to make it clear this was, in a way, an ultimatum, although he hated to even think that harsh word. Then he opened them and looked at Amelia, sitting across from him, the ring in her hand, and said, "But this choice is a final choice. Either I take you home and you stay there with your memories of me, or you stay here and make new ones with me. I cannot . . ."

He had meant to say that he could not continue with the sleepless nights, the uncertainty, the guilt. But in the last second he lost his nerve. He wanted to say, instead, 'I cannot live without you.' But he couldn't say that, either; this was Amelia's decision.

Amelia looked down at the ring, resting on her palm, and whispered, "How long do I have?"

"I cannot give you a time frame. I will not rush you again. But," Cooper stood to gather the dirty plates, "at some point I have to go back to work. Really, I should go tomorrow. And perhaps it would be better for both of us to know what our past is, so we can put it behind us."

She remained silent, staring at the ring, while he loaded the dishwasher. He felt he needed something to do with his hands, otherwise he only wanted to gather her up, kiss her beautiful face, and beg her to stay.

"If I stay, will we . . ." she whispered, and Cooper came to stand closer to her.

"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry it's not a romantic proposal, no holy palmers' kiss."

"If I go home, you'll never . . ."

"No. Never again." That had been his decision. They were either in this together or they were completely out. For all time. He couldn't stand days of joy and nights of sadness any longer. It wasn't fair to Amelia, either.

He was aware he was asking her to marry a man she barely knew. In reality, he had been asking her that when he asked her to step into his time machine. But now there was no turning back. They would be married, try to make a normal life - as normal as a life could be with a time machine in the corner of your living room - and do all the things normal married people did.

Which reminded him of the second thing he decided. He opened his mouth and blurted out this thing that had never been a secret before but suddenly felt so wrong, blushing and stumbling over his words, trying to think of a period appropriate way to explain it to Amelia. She was clearly shocked. Not just by Nicole, he thought, but by the entire idea. In spite of everything, his standing naked before Amelia, her crawling into bed with him, the topic was still mammoth between them.

As she sat, still and surprised, Cooper ran his hand along her face, to reassure her, to feel the current that always passed up his arm when he did so. He told her he thought she needed to be alone to think, which had been his plan all along; but now he wondered if that was another selfish action on his part, leaving her alone after he dropped a bombshell like that. He smiled softly as he explained his absence, leaving out the breaking the law part, and left her alone.

* * *

"I brought ski masks for everyone," Rajeev said as he got into Leo's car.

"Ski masks? We're buying some old dead lady's identity in the bad part of town, not robbing a bank," Herman pointed out.

"What do you think you're wearing?" Rajeev shot back.

"I told Bernice we were going lunar bowling," Herman grumbled.

"She doesn't dig bad boys?" Leonard asked as he drove.

"Does Penelope?" Rajeev asked.

"Oh, yeah. Except, I've been so scared just talking about it I keep having to use my inhaler and that ruins it."

A few more puns were traded around, until Leo said, "Cooper, you're awfully quiet. Nervous?"

"Please, I've travelled through time and back. A dead old lady doesn't frighten me," he said, turning away from the window.

"Sooooo?" Herman prodded.

Cooper sighed. "Fine. I asked Amelia to marry me."

"How romantic!" Rajeev cooed from the back seat. "How did you do it? One knee? Candles? What does the ring look like? I want all the details."

"I'm afraid it wasn't very romantic." Cooper swallowed. "That was a mistake, I think."

"I'm sure it was fine. Besides, she had to expect it, right, coming with you? Wasn't it sort of an implied deal?" Leo asked.

Nodding, Cooper said, "I also told her she has to make a decision. Either we get married or I take her home and we never see each other again."

"Whoa," Rajeev said.

"But we're still getting the dead lady's identity?" Herman asked. "I'm just saying some actual lunar bowling couldn't hurt my alibi."

"Herman, shut up," Leo said. "Cooper, buddy, you okay?"

"I completely botched it. I had just proposed and then I told her about Nicole. Was that in poor taste?"

"A marriage proposal and a former mistress? They go together like peanut butter and jelly!" Herman quipped.

"Wellllll," Leo said. "You had to tell her sometime, right? You were just putting all your cards on the table, so there'd be no surprises later."

"What did Nicole say when you told her?" Rajeev asked.

"Nicole?" Cooper turned around in the seat, as much as he could in the seat belt. Why did she need to be told anything?

"You are telling Nicole, right?" Herman said. "Trust me, there's enough to fight about in a marriage without you receiving a booty call text one evening."

Cooper looked at his best friend, driving slowly through an unfamiliar part of the city. "Leo? What do you think?"

"How long has it been for you and Nicole?" Leo asked after a pause.

"Two months, twenty days."

"Dry spell!" Herman said.

"Did you actually break it off already? I mean, I know it wasn't serious or anything, but did you sort of acknowledge it was the last time? If so, I'd say you're free and clear."

"Um, no." Cooper wondered if he should tell them that she'd contacted him twice in that time frame, but he was too busy with other plans. Or that one day, seven weeks ago, when he'd texted her and she was out of town.

"It's a gray area, but I think if you want to be certain that everyone's on the same page you'd better let her know," Leo said with a shrug, stopping to read a street sign. "I think this is the place."

They all turned to look at the run down house in front of them, one of the window panes broken, a piece of cardboard taped behind it. There was a faded Beware of the Dog sign hanging crookedly off the rusty chain link fence. Leo put the car in park and took out his inhaler.

"Remember, this is for true love," Rajeev said. "Amelia said yes, but they can't make it legal without this."

"Actually, she's hasn't said yes yet. I told her to think about it," Cooper corrected him.

"Wait, she hasn't actually decided to stay and we're still going into that creepy crack house to commit a crime?" Herman asked.

"Cooper?" Leo asked, taking another hit off of his inhaler.

His hand on the door knob, Cooper looked at the house for which the word shady was invented. Breaking the laws of physics, that got you a Nobel Prize. Breaking the actual law, that ruined your career and the respect of your mother. Breaking Amelia's heart, that ruined your life. Should he risk all that for her? Was he willing to gamble that she really meant it when she told him she loved him? Or was it all too late? Did he have enough faith in her, in them? Would she stay?

"Bring the ski masks," he instructed, opening his door.

* * *

He thought maybe she was asleep. He walked closer to the door, straining his ears. Then Cooper heard some faint shuffling behind Amelia's bedroom door, almost like the footsteps of her bare feet. Putting his palm against the face of it, he thought about opening it, telling her about their perilous night. No, he should let her have the peace he asked her to take. To think, hopefully to sleep. He heard a brush on the other side of the door, and he almost felt like he could feel her palm on the opposite side.

"'For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch / And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss,'" he mouthed silently.

* * *

It was done. The text messages had concerned him; he did not want Nicole thinking that was why he was contacting her even for a second. Although, of course, it was only logical that she should. But she had come from work, and Cooper told her after they had ordered that he had met someone, that it was serious. Knowing so little about woman, he was't sure how she'd respond but Nicole had actually been pleased for him. Surprisingly, they enjoyed a pleasant lunch, discussing the latest super hero movies and television shows in broad terms.

Back at work, though, he found it hard to concentrate. He knew it was necessary to leave Amelia alone to help her acclimate to her new world. Or, he thought with a frown, decide it wasn't. But she had actually slept through the night last night without any nightmares; surely that was a good sign that she was adapting and settling in? He paced his office, puttering from one location and task to the next, never settling on anything. Finally, with a sigh, he decided to leave. He would go home early and surprise her; she'd probably like that. He wondered if he should take her on a walk, she must be getting bored and stuffy in the apartment for a week.

By the time he arrived, he almost ran up the stairs, so eager to see her smile, to hear what she thought of her first movie. "Amelia! I came home early, I thought you might be bored and-" he stopped in the doorway, the keys still in his hand. She was sitting in his desk chair, back in the dress and apron that she had been wearing when they arrived, clutching her folio so hard her knuckles were white. "Amelia? Why are you dressed like that? And sitting there?"

"I've decided," she said with a coldness and a harshness that were foreign to her voice. "I want to go home. Forever."

Cooper felt like all the air left his body in a single rush and his very ribs knotted themselves up once more. He tried to swallow down the bile rising in his throat. He could barely form the words. "Are you sure? Is that your decision?"

"Yes." Still there was no life in her once-beautiful green eyes. Something had changed today while he was gone.

Trying to gather himself, he concentrated on the once simple actions of putting his keys down and shutting the door. "May I ask why?"

"Does it matter? You said it was my choice." Still no warmth in her words.

"Yes, it is, but, " he finally looked back at her, up from the key bowl, even if it meant meeting those dead eyes, "don't you think I deserve an explanation?"

There was no reply. He thought maybe, for just a nanosecond, he saw a spark of his Amelia before she looked away. Maybe he could reach her after all. It was selfish and hypocritical, he knew. He had made her choose, he had promised her he would respect her decision, that he would take her home if that's what she wanted, but he genuinely hadn't thought this would be happening to him. She had become a part of his time machine, a part of his life, a part of the ring he was going to wear no matter what, a part of his heart. No, it couldn't be happening. Not his precious Amelia. "Please?"

When she looked back sharply and told him her reason, he didn't understand. Telegrams and harlots? Had she somehow figured out how to watch some other movie on Netflix? What was she talking about?

It all came pouring, tumbling out. What she had seen, what she had assumed, the conclusions to which she had leapt. Cooper was angry, so very angry, mostly at himself, but even at Amelia. He found himself shouting, which he immediately regretted, and telling her more details about his relationship with Nicole than he should have even though they were true. He threw the Nobel Prize in her face, and it wasn't even true, what he said. The Nobel Prize was the thing he had previously thought was all he ever wanted, all he would ever need to make him happy in his life, and for a moment, he let hang in the air that Amelia was only a means to that end. It was the cruelest and most untrue thing Cooper had ever done and he knew it.

As he leaned his head against his time machine, an instrument of joy that now only brought him pain and regret, he confessed his sins. "I can't remain angry with you because it's all my fault. I should have never asked you to come, never brought you here. It's too much for you. You're right: this is all a mistake, it's all my fault. I'll take you home, and then you can forget all about it. Maybe, in time, I'll forget the guilt, too."

Realizing there was only one course of action left, hating himself for allowing this to all happen in the first place, he forced himself to say what he never wanted to say. "Please go to your room. Leave me alone. I'll take you home in the morning, after I've checked the calculations again and tried to get some sleep. I can't concentrate right now. I know you don't believe me, but I love you too much to take you back to the wrong time."

Then he whispered, saying the most painful thing of all, "Please just go."

* * *

Cooper had lied about that, too. He knew the calculations back to that moment as though they were etched indelibly upon his soul. He didn't need to check them; they were his true north, his lodestar. Everything in his life would forever be measured against them, all the days merely a sundial, his life the shadow projected by the gnomon that was Amelia running over the hill on the prairie to step into his machine.

But he did it anyway. Four times. Because he had promised her, and this, at least, was something he could do properly. He had already ruined too many other things for her. He would take her home, say good-bye with a resolve he did not feel, and he would spend the rest of his life looking for her name in all the world's history books. Because Amelia - his Amelia! - was not destined to live unknown and forgotten on the prairie forever. He knew that just as well as he knew the calculations.

He opened the skin of his machine and checked all the circuit boards, including the new one he had installed in place of his crudely repaired one. Everything was in order. The old repaired board was setting on the bookshelf, and he picked up, the unrefined line of Amelia's silver catching the light once more. Grazing it with his fingertip, Cooper put in the bag of supplies he kept under the seat in the machine. This would travel with them once more. It would probably travel with him forever. He would leave her ring out, wherever she had left it, so that she could take it home, hide it away to replace her other ring, and someday, maybe, she would allow another man to slip it on her finger, never knowing that he was wearing the other half in the future, every day for the rest of his life. He wouldn't tell her, he wouldn't put it on until he had returned without her. Illogically, he wondered if he would feel that shiver of the temporal bonds down his arm when he put it on, never to remove it. A widower to destiny.

* * *

"Cooper! Cooper, come back!"

He awoke to her strangled cries, surprised he had drifted off to sleep after lying awake for hours. Kicking his legs out from under the blankets, he ran, his chest thundering as he entered Amelia's room.

Pulling her close, pressing her cheek to his pajamas, he stroked her hair and repeated, although he didn't believe it, "It will be okay, it will be okay."

"I thought you'd left me behind," she cried.

"I thought that's what you wanted," he whispered, closing his eyes.

"I was wrong. I was wrong. I want you, Cooper, I want to stay here with you."

His heart leapt at the possibility. "Please be very sure before you say that to me. I could not bear it if you changed your mind." Pausing, he felt tears coming to his eyes, unable to hide them any longer. "It might kill me."

Amelia lifted her head up and looked at him. He saw her beautiful green eyes again, just as soft and as earnest as they had been that first day on the prairie. "I mean it. I've never meant anything more. I'm so sorry. I was being rash and foolhardy. I do believe you. You have every right to be angry with me, I didn't understand what I was seeing and I just assumed the worst of you. I want to stay here, with you. Forever. If you'll still have me. Please don't leave me behind. I don't even care if you need me for your Nobel Prize."

"Oh, Amelia," Cooper barely choked out, the tears no longer staying in his eyes. He welcomed them as they fell. "Don't you understand? You are the only prize I'll ever need."

Then he lifted the edges of the blankets and crawled in next to her, gathering her in his arms. They talked and talked, all of those important topics they had found the words for in the past but had been leaving out here in the present, more worried about history lessons and mundane life. They talked about their pasts, they shared their hopes and dreams of a life together, they admitted what worried them the most. Through it all, Cooper squeezed Amelia even tighter than he had that night in the log cabin, holding on to her, never letting her go.

* * *

"Sacred?" Cooper raised his eyebrows. He had thought, in the middle of the night, that they would get up and go down to city hall and sign a marriage license. That was the plan, and he found that once the decision had been made he wanted to complete it as soon as possible.

"Yes, don't you think it should be sacred? It's the most important day of our lives, the most solemn thing we will ever do." She was sitting up next to him in bed, her legs tucked under her, holding his hand on her lap.

Cooper smiled at the fierceness in her voice. And, he realized, she was correct. "Okay, sacred it is. A sacred place. But it doesn't have to be a church? Or a minister? Leo got ordained on the Internet for our friend Herman's wedding."

Amelia tilted her head and then said, "No, it doesn't have to a be a church. And Leo is fine. Is there somewhere that is sacred to you?"

Somewhere scared? Not being a religious man, he tried to think of a moment in time in which faith alone had led him to take some life altering act. He smiled slightly. "I have some ideas. I'll need a few days to work out the details. You don't mind waiting?"

She smiled and lay back down next to him, never letting go of his hand. "We've waited 140 years already."

* * *

"Rajeev, as an astrophysicist, do you know how to work a planetarium?" he asked over lunch at work the next day.

"Sure," his friend shrugged.

"Do you think you could program a particular date from a particular location in less than, say, ten minutes?"

"Absolutely."

"What's up, Coop?" Herman asked. "I think we've all learned to ask more questions with you."

Cooper put his hand up to silence him. "These are the most important questions: Do you have privileges at Griffith Observatory? And how quickly could you reserve a time?"

"Yeah, what's going on?" Leo asked.

"I haven't used it before, but with my Caltech credentials it shouldn't be too hard. I'll have to call," Rajeev said. "And, yes, what are you up to? What's with all the questions?"

"Because, gentleman, now that we've embarked upon a life of crime, we're going to illegally hijack the Griffith Observatory for a wedding." He let go of the satisfied smile he had been holding in. "Circa 1886."

* * *

It was the perhaps the most awkward conversation Cooper had ever had - which, considering the number he was having lately, was quite a statement - and he found his words stilted, vague, euphemistic at best. Completely unsure of how Amelia would respond to this idea, this medical advancement that would allow her to find her own life before she gave life to any children. But she'd been receptive and intrigued, if, Cooper could tell, still confused on the specifics.

After she'd ensconced herself for her nightly bath, Cooper took a deep breath, grabbed a couple of items, and crossed the hallway.

"Cooper!" Penelope opened the door.

"Um, is Leo home?" Cooper licked his lips.

"No, sorry, he went to pick up dinner. Should I tell him to come over later?"

"Actually, I came to see you." He reached in his pocket and handed her his credit card for a second time. "Whatever she wants. And I have another favor to ask you."

Grabbing the card, Penelope asked, "What, taking Miss Innocent shopping tomorrow isn't enough? It's a good thing I like her. And that I can never resist spending someone else's money."

Sighing, Cooper reached into his pocket and held out the second item.

"A banana?" Penelope's eyebrows scrunched. "What is this for?"

"This." Cooper handed her the third item.

"Jesus, Cooper!" The wide eyes again. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Demonstrate how, um -" he coughed "- it's used."

"Are you serious? You want to me teach her about sex?"

"No, not entirely," Cooper said quickly. "I'm certain she understands -" - flashes of the sounds of her in the bath in the cabin - "- the general mechanics. I mean, she grew up on a farm. Barn cats and all that. And I've already introduced the idea of the condom and birth control in general. But, you know." He ended in a shrug.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless, you know that?" Cooper nodded in agreement. "You're sure she knows the general idea?"

"Yes," Cooper said horsely, remembering the feel of her crawling into bed next to him, thinking of how accustomed she had become to their kisses of ever increasing passion in the past few days. "Please? And please don't ever tell me about it, what you say. I would like to pretend we never had this conversation."

"That makes two of us." Then, waving the banana, Penelope said, "Your secret mission is safe with me."

* * *

He didn't know what to expect. Having involved Penelope, he imagined some sort of froufrou cupcake dress. He silently prayed no employee would stop Amelia and ask her what she was doing there in a wedding dress.

Strangely nervous, he clutched the bouquet even tighter, waiting for her to arrive. Timing was tight. They were almost late for their appointment because, at the last minute, he remembered the flowers. Every bride needed and wanted flowers, right? But they were all wrong, hot house roses and calla lilies. Nothing free enough for Amelia's spirit, he thought. Then he spied the collection of wildflowers, and barely had time to get them tied with a white ribbon before Leo had honked the horn impatiently. They waited outside in the car until Rajeev texted that he had secured the planetarium. Quickly and furtively they entered the museum, diving between large exhibits to avoid explaining why they were all wearing suits and carrying a bouquet of flowers to do research. And what was taking Rajeev so long? The sky above was still a dim, blank white.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Amelia was there, Penelope holding her arm. It wasn't a white confection after all, it was . . . perfect. She looked luminous, beautiful, the pale lavender setting off her green eyes. He had been afraid that Penelope would do something over the top to her hair and paint her face into an unrecognizable visage. But, no, it was his Amelia and her braids walking toward him, falling into the bridal march even without music.

"Hello," she said when she finally reached him in the center of the room, "you look handsome."

He grinned at her with abandonment. "You are beautiful. Here, these are for you." He held out the flowers, regretting she didn't have them for her walk up the aisle. "You seem like a wildflower kind of girl."

Amelia took them and nodded, looking down to touch the flowers gently. They matched her dress perfectly.

When she didn't reply, Cooper felt the need to explain, "Technically, you can't rent the planetarium for personal events. We used our Caltech credentials to get a half-hour of time. We may have misled them on some details."

"What's a planetarium?" Amelia asked, looking back up and smiling, not surprised or concerned at all, it seemed, about his existence as a rogue and outlaw.

"This." Cooper waved his arms and prayed that Rajeev wouldn't let him down now. Suddenly, the ceiling darkened and exploded with bright, white stars. So many stars, thousands of them.

"Oh!" Amelia cried out, and Cooper was pleased with the theatrics of it all, even if it had not been his original plan. It was actually better this way. Just as crash landing and finding Amelia had been for the best.

Amelia shook her head, tilting it back to look up.

"It's the early morning sky over Independence, Kansas on November 3, 1886. You said we should be married somewhere sacred," Cooper said, hearing the weight and emotion in his own voice.

Amelia started to cry in earnest now, and he had to bat away his own tears. "The morning we met," she whispered.

Cooper nodded and put his hand out for hers. When their palms met, he felt the shifts of time, the holy palmers kiss. He took that feeling as a sign that they were both ready now, ready to continue their adventure. They turned to face Leo and vowed that their love was an ever-fixed mark in time, never altering, never wavering.

And then he slid the silver ring on Amelia's finger and she slid it on his. He still had not told her; for some reason he could not explain he wanted this to remain his secret, at least for now. She had been wrong two weeks ago in the cabin. These rings were not mere objects, they held incredible power. They were binding them together in time, to each other, for infinity.

* * *

For the second time in one day, he was incredibly nervous. More so. Marrying Amelia, saying aloud what his heart already knew, that he would love and stay with her forever, that was easy. Teaching her the ways of physical love, that was terrifying. Goodness knew what notions Penelope had filled her head with. And why on Earth had he ever told her it was whimsically inventive? He wasn't sure he was good enough for that!

Cooper understood the weight upon his shoulders. Now he was the experienced one, and Amelia trusted him implicitly. He wanted it to be perfect for her, to make her feel as beautiful and as amazing as she was. She was so very young, so naive, so inexperienced even with kissing. He had felt her initial confusion and resistance to his kiss in her bed that morning she agreed to stay. But she was eager, too, he thought. The way she had kissed him just now, after she opened her gift, was no longer hesitant. Nevertheless, as he unzipped her dress, he had given her an opportunity to delay. He would wait for her. But she had not taken it.

Pacing in the living room, he waited even long after he heard silence from the bedroom. He took off his jacket and tie, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt. Maybe if he looked more casual, like Dean Martin . . . He shook his head at the ridiculous notion before taking a deep breath and walking to the door.

"Amelia?" he knocked.

"Come in," she called. He opened the door and smiled at her, looking so small in his bed, the blankets pulled up almost to her chin. But her arms were bare, and he wondered what she was wearing underneath there.

Unsure what to say, he went to the closet and started to undress, feeling clumsy and conspicuous, not at all the suave image he wanted to portray to her tonight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look away quickly.

"You can watch," he said softly, almost pointing out she had seen it all before. Well not _all_ of it. As he lifted his undershirt over his head, he allowed a little smile behind it. Amelia had turned back to watch him again. That was good sign, surely? One deep breath, and he quickly stepped out of his Underoos and turned toward her before he lost his nerve.

Gasping, Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe that was too shocking. Which made him feel oddly satisfied with his body. Lifting up the blankets, sliding in next to her, now he said it. "You've seen it before."

Amelia opened her eyes, looking at the ceiling. "But it didn't look like that."

He chuckled softly at the memory, proud and still surprised at the control he'd had over his body at that moment. "Miraculously."

When she didn't answer, the buoyancy of his reply evaporated. No, that wasn't a suave thing to say at all. He reached up to brush her face, gently turning it toward him. He looked at her with concern. "I thought you knew. I didn't think it would be a surprise to you. When you were in the bath, you certainly seemed to understand. And when you got in bed with me, I thought . . ."

She gave a weak smile but her cheeks flushed a bright red. "I do know. I know what's going to happen. I just - I think I was pretending to be brave when I got in bed. I thought that you wanted that. That if you had that you wouldn't get in your time machine."

"Oh, Amelia." The words plucked at him, a tiny sliver of guilt still there despite the new ring on his finger. His lips brushed against hers, the barest hint of a kiss. "Do you understand now? That's exactly why I couldn't?"

"Yes," Amelia whispered.

"But you're right," Cooper answered, gently kissing her cheek, then her temple. For a second, he thought about postponing the evening's activities. But, no, he remembered her kiss and nod in the living room. "I did want you. Almost as much as I want you right now." His kissed her earlobe, and then, before he thought too much about it, he swirled his tongue around this potent erroneous zone. The first of many to which he planned to introduce her.

"Hoooot," she breathed out as her back arched. He smiled even as his kept it up. The same sound she had given that night she dried him off, the sound of sex, the sound of desire. Wanting to only please her further, he slowly slipped his hand down her neck, creeping under the blankets, stopping on her décolletage when he realized she was shaking beneath him.

"You're trembling."

After a pause, she turned to look at him. "I want you, too. Then. And now. I'm just - it's overwhelming."

His heart bursting, Cooper wanted her to know how much he loved her, how he wanted her to embrace this experience just as much as she readily embraced everything else. He wanted her to know that he only wanted to make her happy, to show her physically all the love he carried in his heart and body for her. "Amelia," he whispered softly, his lips barely grazing hers once more, "please don't be frightened. I love you, and I only want to make you feel good. Let yourself be overwhelmed. I want you to think of the place you love the most on Earth, a place where time feels meaningless. I want to you shut your eyes and think of that place. And then I want to take you there. Just me, just us, no time machine. I want to be there with you. Will you let me take you there?"

After studying him seriously for a moment, Amelia nodded and closed her eyes. There was a soft exhale and a sweet, gentle smile as he leaned down to trace every edge and plane of her face with his lips. He was determined to worship her slowly.

Later, as he watched her climax for the first time beneath his touch, her body shuddering and flushing, he smiled deeply and, for just a brief moment, he thought he felt a gentle spring breeze tickle their bodies and the sound of birds and the smell of fresh prairie grass, and he knew that time held no constraints for them.

* * *

 ** _Thank you in advance for your reviews!_**


	4. Bareback Rider 1

_**This chapter and the next (Chapters Four and Five) follow the events of**_ **Amelia and The Bareback Rider.** _ **Please enjoy!**_

* * *

 **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

He knew it was a bad idea. He didn't want to go. But Amelia was the very definition of a spur of the moment decision, and, even before he thought it through fully, he'd agreed. He agreed to travel back in time and meet her parents. To meet his punishment, no doubt, for stealing her away.

Cooper may not have agreed if it happened later, at another time. But they were cuddling on the couch, the room only lit by the Christmas tree lights, and she starting crying, for goodness sakes. How could he say no to her? They were still very much in their honeymoon phase. Literally. Not quite a full lunar cycle from their wedding. They were still finding their rhythms, the rhythms of their lives, the rhythms of their physical love. Amelia had embraced that just as eagerly as she embraced every other new experience, and Cooper was surprised to find himself twice gently turning her down, softly reminding her that he wasn't nineteen like her. He contemplated increasing his work-outs from three days a week to five just to build up his stamina.

Mostly, though, he agreed because loved her. Because, despite the fact his mother currently wasn't speaking to him because she was so shocked and angry about his marriage ("You met this girl on an Internet blind date in a coffee shop, she moved in, and you got married two weeks later?! And you didn't see fit to tell me until after the fact?!"), he couldn't imagine never seeing her, never speaking to her again for the rest of his life. His mother would thaw, probably by Christmas proper. There were only miles and disappointment between them, not 140 years.

He agreed even though he knew it was a bad idea. Even though he didn't want to go. Even though he knew it would not be as Amelia imagined, her parents welcoming him with open arms. He agreed because he was so thrilled that she had a rudimentary plan, that she'd shared her ideas, because he could never resist her when she jutted her little chin out in that adorable way she did when she was being especially stubborn. Because he loved her, and if she wanted to go home, he would take her. Because he loved her enough, even if it meant she'd ask him to leave her behind.

* * *

Amelia's stamina, not only for sex but also for life, was astounding. He found a formal online program for both the GED test and SAT preparation for her, thinking she'd do one and then the other, but she dove into both at the same time. She read so many books he feared the Amazon fees would break him financially. She insisted, over his multiple protests, that if she were home all day she should also do the cooking and the cleaning and the laundry, that all those tasks were ridiculously simple in the 21st-century, and he still pondered new ways to make her realize that was not expected of her. Her nose wrinkled in an adorable fashion as she studied the lettuce and onions at the grocery store, prompting her to read a book on modern farming techniques. Before he knew it, Cooper was drinking free range milk and following her braids at the local farmer's market as she searched for the perfect organic heirloom tomatoes. She organized a weekly gathering of his friends for take-out food at their apartment every Friday evening, and the strength of her personality was such no one dared miss a week.

Even their first fight in January, when she suggested they store the time machine elsewhere and get a dining table for the landing by the window, was a stand-off beyond his imagining. Cooper was certain hell had never dreamt the amount of fury that Amelia possessed for those forty-eight hours! He didn't win, he surrendered. And then she said she had changed her mind! That infernal woman!

What thrilled him the most, though, was the amount of effort she put into this little trip of theirs. He worked on designing and building a cloaking device for the time machine, but he needed his friends to help. All alone, Amelia planned dates, times, researched train schedules, suitcases, clothing, and a thousand other details of which he would have never thought. After she was on his health insurance, she even picked a birth control method that would not require any external evidence when they traveled.

Cooper thought about what Rajeev had said that morning his friends agreed to help him help her stay, that it was like a real life episode of _Doctor Who_. Except it was like River Song had moved in, rearranged the TARDIS, and charted the course of every episode thereafter.

* * *

What he had not counted on was the sight of her in that dress: dark green velvet with black trim, a high-necked ivory blouse with lace edges, her hair twisted up, a little matching hat perched on her head, and a bustle. That bustle! It swayed with her walk, teasing him, reminding him that her impeccable posterior was hiding behind it. Almost every last inch of her was covered in multiple layers of fabric - she even wore gloves! - and never had Cooper wanted to peel them off so badly before.

The whole experience was exhilarating, smooth and planned. No broken parts, no crashes, no rough landings, no vomiting. Although still physically assaulting, he concentrated on Amelia squeezing his hand and that made it more bearable. The chocolate helped, too. Everything was more vivid, sharper than he'd imagined: the sounds and sights of 1880s Los Angles, how easily their counterfeit money was accepted, even the suffocating Victoriana of the rooming house. But most of all it was the smooth confidence of Amelia. She wasn't frightened or worried in the least. No, of course she wasn't. Not his little tornado, she was no hot house flower.

Adrenaline from yet another success coursing through his veins - catching the last load of mail headed east - and the sight of her, turning in that dress to look at him, made him need her in way he hadn't since they'd been on the prairie. What if time travel was an aphrodisiac? It would explain his inappropriate feelings that first day he crash landed on her farm. But what did that mean for the rest of their trip? How would he ever keep his hands off of her in the loft of that log cabin again?

For a second, he thought the Victorian prudery had stolen her sex drive, when she pushed him away, even as he was kissing her and unbuttoning that delightful blouse. "People didn't do _that_ in the early evening in 1887."

How could she say that with her bosom practically displayed on a shelf for him? He brushed the back of his hand along its curves. "How do you know? Or maybe we're the ones that gave everyone the idea. Amelia and Cooper, time traveling sexual trend setters. Now, is there enough room for me under this delightful bustle?"

He kissed her again, and he now felt the little chuckle into his mouth. So he wasn't surprised when she slide her arm under his jacket and said, "Well, when you put it that way . . ."

So they did _that_ in the early evening of 1887. Cooper discovered that yes, there was indeed enough room for him under that bustle. Then they ate, flushed and famished, from the plates that were waiting outside their door. Then they did that again in the late evening of 1887. And again the next morning.

It was a glorious week. They explored, Amelia shopped, he visited The Normal School to memorize any necessary details should he be asked, and no one questioned their alibi. They took a picnic lunch out to an empty stretch of beach one day to see it in its untouched, pristine state before it was covered by sunbathers, multimillion dollar homes, and plastic bags. Although he found the sand irritating, convinced it made his sandwich gritty, Amelia was delighted with the view and the peaceful crashing of the waves. The ocean was something she had fallen in love with in their present, and here, with no one around, it was a gift all for her.

"Do you want to go in?" she asked him. "Just to wade?"

"Never have I ever put my foot in the ocean!" he protested. "And you made that funny face when Penelope tried to convince you to go swimming there."

"What face?"

"That one with the scrunched eyes and the wrinkled nose and you shake your head." He smiled at the memory.

"Only because I had just read a chapter in my Earth Science textbook on marine pollution. Here, though, it's clean."

"No, go ahead," he waved toward her. Once her boots and stockings were removed, she reached down to grab her skirts and splashed her way into the water. Cooper remained convinced he made the better decision, especially as he got to lean back on his elbows and watch her standing there, reaching up to hold her large brimmed hat in place, her white dress billowing around her, like some sort of painting or angel.

If that had been the entirety of their trip, it would have been perfect.

But late at night, after they's done _that_ again, Cooper held her as she fell asleep and worried about the next phase of their journey. The aphrodisiac quality seemed to have worn off after a day or so, so they'd made love just because they wanted to, because he enjoyed the tingle that still ran through their bodies when they touched, but mostly because he loved her beyond words. Only actions had to do.

He finally had everything he ever wanted - no, everything he never even knew he needed. A beautiful wife, a fearless and true companion in this strange life of his. Did she feel it, too? He thought she did. But was it enough? Did she only love the ocean because its waves and wind reminded her of the grasses blowing on the prairie? Was she only so carefree and happy here because she was truly going home?

* * *

He loved the train, even more than he thought he would. He loved the train sex, despite the fact he was too tall and he kept hitting his head on the top bunk and Amelia giggled at him. Who knew train sex was even a thing? However, always, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it was like the last meal they fed a condemned man: a distraction, a misdirection. Just think about about this simple physical pleasure and ignore the electric chair around the corner.

Sure enough, once they disembarked and stood on the platform at the depot in Independence, all his joy on the train was gone. He wanted to reach out and hold Amelia's hand, have her lie to him again and tell him how thrilled her parents would be to meet him, so that maybe he could believe it this time; but she was too busy shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, standing on her tiptoes, eagerly scanning the small throng of gathered people.

"There he is! Pa! Pa!" Amelia almost screamed, waving her arms excitedly.

Cooper watched the man approaching. There was no doubt he was Amelia's father. That same color hair, the same nose, the same eyes. His skin was darker, probably tanned by sun, and he was taller. Still, they looked so much alike. He wasn't smiling, but at least he wasn't staring at Cooper, which he had expected. For weeks, Cooper had imagined a cold, angry stare when they first met. But Amelia's father wasn't even looking at him.

"Oh, Pa, it's so good to see you again!" Amelia gushed, and Cooper thought she'd throw her arms around him, but she didn't.

Edward (is that what he should call him?) bent down to pick up one of the suitcases and nodded at Amelia. "Likewise."

"Pa, this is my husband, Professor Cooper Shelton." She sounded so proud, so excited.

Cooper put his hand out, hoping it didn't feel too sweaty and clammy. "Pleased to meet you, sir." (Sir, maybe, until he was told otherwise?) "Amelia has told me so much about you."

Only then did her father slide his eyes over to Cooper, but they barely flicked up before he looked back at Amelia. "Come. Your mother will be waiting on us."

Then he turned and walked toward the wagon without another glance at Cooper and his still outstretched hand.

Cooper didn't know why he left it out like that; it couldn't be shock, he had expected this. Swallowing, shaking his head, he pulled it back. He looked at Amelia, forcing himself to give her a smile, but its insincerity made him hate himself. But he refused to ruin this for her. He took her hand and helped her catch up to her father, swinging the now full suitcases up into the bed of the wagon, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I'll just ride back here."

It wasn't a cold stare of contempt, after all. Rather, it was Amelia's father couldn't be bothered to care, that Cooper wasn't worthy of his glance, his time, his disdain, and, most certainly, his daughter.

* * *

For five months (because it still spring in 21-century Pasadena, not the height of July it was here), Cooper had mused about that little cabin on the prairie, recalling every nook and cranny with a pleasant glow. But now what he previously thought was clean and simple looked rustic and plain. The food he had found hearty and filling now tasted bland and overcooked. The glow of the fire in the stove that had seemed cozy now seemed smothering in the heat. The little loft where he had first sleep so close and yet so far away from his Amelia was cramped and suffocating.

As soon as he took one suitcase up the ladder and reached down for the other that Amelia passed up, he had to remove his jacket, vest, and tie because of the heat. He went to sit by the tiny window, hoping for a breeze, but found none. Amelia's shuffled up behind him, and he ignored her, looking out the window, watching her father and brother across the little yard, unbridling the horses, putting the wagon away.

"Cooper, you should change into some lighter fabrics. I bought you some thinner pants and shirts in Los Angles. Work clothes." Amelia's voice called him back, and he turned.

For a second, the air lifted. There was his Amelia, just as he'd first found her. The traveling suit was gone, replaced by a simple floral dress. And she was braiding her hair. The braids! He smiled at her and asked, "Are you happy?"

"Oh, so very happy!" Amelia rushed at him then and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug. "Sorry, I should go help Ma put dinner on the table."

Then she was gone and with her went every once of air. Cooper got up and struggled to change clothes where he couldn't even stand up fully. How had he managed this before?

No stranger to uncomfortable family meals, especially given that most of the members of his family were morons, Cooper ate silently. But he gladly would have endured a thousand bad Thanksgivings over the meal he was forced to withstand that evening. Although Amelia's mother didn't welcome him with open arms, either, she at least was willing to try and make polite conversation with him over dinner. She was different than he expected. Shorter. Her hair was also dark brown, but she had curls that escaped her bun and twisted tightly around her hairline. That was surprising, as Amelia's hair was so straight.

But his explanations seemed misunderstood, his jokes ignored, and even his plans, his idea that Amelia had assured him would thaw her father, fell on deaf ears. He wasn't even allowed to complete verbalizing his analyses. He felt guilty taking some small consolation in the fact that even Amelia seemed to be having difficulty expressing things correctly, her own protests unheard. He put his finger gently on the back of her hand, to keep her from saying too much, to keep her from wasting her breath, to give her his support. At last, it was over and Amelia's father left, gruff and forceful, taking Amelia's sullen teenage brother with him. It was almost as though he was afraid Cooper's very presence would contaminate his son.

Volunteering to wash the dishes, just to have something to do with his hands, some activity to keep him busy, Cooper stared out the window again as he overhead Amelia and her mother chatting about clothes. Finally, he was forced to suggest to Amelia that they go to sleep, not because he was tired but because he just wanted to feel at peace in his own skin again, to not be on constant alert. And it seemed that Amelia's father and brother weren't coming back anytime soon.

Even though he knew they'd never make love with her parents mere feet below them, Cooper had imagined that he and Amelia would finally get to reclaim that night and correct it: this time she would lift her blanket and invite him in, and they would cuddle all night. Instead, it was so hot they didn't even touch, covering their bodies with the thinnest of sheets. Amelia rolled and rolled next to him, while he laid stiff and motionless on his back and stared at the rough wooden rafters above his head.

"It's too hot to sleep," Amelia finally whispered to him.

"If you say so." He knew it wasn't the heat, and he wondered how long it would take her to admit it.

* * *

Amelia seemed shocked that her father and brother would leave without him the next morning. Cooper was not surprised. He had heard her father getting up, the sleep he had managed to fall into being light and uneasy, but he made no effort to join him. Maybe that was a mistake. He was, after all, a strong youngish man, he could have been helpful with the physical labor if he was instructed on how to do it. But he felt it had been make clear he was not welcome in the fields, just as he was not welcome in this cabin.

There was nothing for him to do in the cabin, though, either. Yes, he could fetch buckets of water from the well when asked or even volunteer some suggestions for the cutting of fabric using advanced geometric principles, but all these domestic tasks were foreign to him. He admired the way Amelia and her mother stacked the wood in the stove to obtain the right temperature for their cooking, the easy way they accepted the difficulty of their tasks. Amelia's mother, of course, knew no other way. But Amelia gladly rolled up her sleeves in the heat and spent an hour performing a chore that would take five minutes at home.

Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. It was Amelia's nature to always be busy, to apply herself to doing something correctly. But how had she ever found the time to read here? That gave him an idea.

"Would you ladies like for me to read to you while you work?" he asked.

"That would be lovely. I've often wished for another voice when I'm here working alone," Amelia's mother said. "Not even a conversation, just a voice reading to me or telling me something. Or music. Do you know what a phonograph is, Cooper?"

"Yes, of course."

"Ed read they were for sale in Kansas City last winter. And I thought it sounded wonderful, something other than silence. Can you imagine such a thing? Music on a cylinder, I think it was called. It must be magic."

"But it's not. It's merely the stylus tracing the groove created by previously etched waveforms, causing vibrations. With enough amplification, that's music," Cooper explained.

Amelia's mother shook her head. "Sounds like magic to me."

Cooper's eyes flicked to Amelia's. Perhaps he was saying too much. He could get overly excited, he had been told, by scientific advancement. However, Amelia had always listened intently to him, even from the very first morning on the prairie, and she had not dismissed his knowledge of things far more advanced than a phonograph. As if she heard his thoughts, Amelia smiled softly at him. He nodded and returned to reading.

* * *

After three days of reading aloud and gathering water and wood and failing to sleep after another strained dinner conversation, Cooper had had enough. Although he had previously dreaded any sort of confrontation with Amelia's father, he would have now welcomed it. His tension was growing by the minute, so much so that his jaw was now constantly aching from how much he was clenching it, and he knew he either needed to resolve this situation or he would have to leave. However, the thought of leaving made his stomach ache just has much as his jaw. Amelia seemed mostly happy here. Yes, she had sent him some looks of commiseration or apology in the evenings, but she appeared pleasantly settled. Had he been wrong all along, thinking she did not belong here, that she was a woman out of time, that to stay here would be stunting to her mental growth? Perhaps it been mistake, taking her with him.

Since he wasn't sleeping well, he heard her father awake beneath them on the fourth morning, just has he had the previous three. He was an efficient man and he would be gone quickly. Stirring rapidly but silently, careful not to wake Amelia, Cooper dressed and descended the ladder, stepping out the front door just behind the other man.

Standing in the early morning shade of the cabin, Edward stopped and lowered the blue metal mug from which he was drinking. "Coffee?"

Startled at being addressed directly, Cooper nodded before he thought about the caffeine intake. As there seemed to be no breakfast, perhaps this stimulant would have to suffice. Edward poured some of the black liquid into another mug sitting on the rough bench and handed it to him.

"Ugh," Cooper put his hand over his mouth, forcing the first bitter gulp down. "It's cold."

The other man nodded, throwing his head back and draining his mug. Unsure if he normally drank it that fast, Cooper couldn't shake the feeling it was a statement about his own perceived weak constitution. "I drink it cold in the summer. I find it invigorating."

"And I thought cold coffee was invited by Starbucks," Cooper murmured.

"Mr. Starbucks," Edward grumbled. "That's a city name if I ever heard one." He shook his head. "Leave it. David will drink it."

Since it didn't seem the time to remind him that Starbucks was named after Captain Ahab's first mate in _Moby Dick_ , Cooper just held the mug out to David, as he approached from the barn.

"What are you doing here?" David asked.

"Good morning to you, too," Cooper replied.

"The professor here is going to help us in the field today," Edward interjected for him. "It will be good to have another set of arms today. It's going to be hard work getting those stumps out. The hardest job all summer."

Cooper gulped. This plan had all seemed more logical lying awake on his mattress in the loft. And was that a statement of fact? Or a taunt, just like calling him professor? But he stood up straighter and said firmly, "Yes, sir."

Edward didn't reply. Instead, he picked up the kettle and the mugs, returning them to the cabin and emerging with a rucksack. "Food for later," he explained, walking toward the barn. "Unless you've become accustomed to being served breakfast first thing."

Despite the grumbling of his stomach, Cooper saw this as another challenge. He would not back down. He needed to prove that he was just as worthy of Amelia as any other man. And if took skipping breakfast for a day, so be it. It was a very small price to pay for her. "No, sir."

The heat, the sun, the work . . . It was beyond anything Cooper had ever imagined. His forehead hurt from squinting in the glare, as he silently wondered what type of eye diseases all the pioneers had from not properly shielding their eyes behind UV-protected sunglasses. Edward and David quickly removed their shirts, revealing heavy tanned and muscled bodies. Cooper had actually been proud of his physique from his new work-outs, but he was scrawny and pale compared these two, even young David. All of the pleasure he gained from Amelia's smoothing her hands over his chest and telling him how much she loved his skin evaporated in the heat. He longed for a hat as the sun beat down on his face and neck, and he could feel his skin burning. Now he wouldn't even have that for Amelia to love.

But he refused to allow them to see him drag, to see him crumple even as the effort and the heat become so great he excused himself to go vomit up his lunch. The stumps seemed a metaphor for the impossible task he was trying to accomplish here, as they clung stubbornly to the ground, fighting the men's effort to leverage them to make way for any progress.

At last, the offending stumps were removed. Edward stopped and took off his hart, wiping his forehead. "I'd hoped we'd make more progress today." He sighed and looked out. "Let's at least get this half tilled since we've got the horses here. We'll work on the other half later."

"What will you plant here?" Cooper asked, trying to make conversation as he drank water greedily from ladle, leaning over the bucket they brought. He would have given anything to upend and dump it over himself; he'd never felt so filthy in all his life.

"This late in the season, I think turnips are the only option. I can only hope that I'll be able to sell that many come autumn. It will be more than we can eat." Amelia's father replaced his hat. "Perhaps it's a fool's errand. I had wanted to get this done in June, when there were more options. Without the extra hands that I hoped I'd gain in a son-in-law . . ." He let the sentence fall away. Then he seemed to shake himself and said, "David, you're at the plow."

"But, Pa, all you do is tell me I've done it wrong!" the teenager sulked.

"You will never learn to keep the plow straight without practice," Edward said firmly.

"I'll do it," Cooper said. Both men turned to looked at him.

"It is not easy," Edward said with a frown. "It is not just walking behind the horses while they do all the work. They are mostly obedient, but they are still only God's dumb creatures. You have to hold tight on the reigns, steer them in the right direction."

"I can do it," Cooper said proudly.

Edward seemed to study him, and then David said, "You cannot be considering it!"

"Let him do it," Edward declared. "A man with a chip on his shoulder will not rest until he has proven its weight."

Refusing to even flinch at the insult, Cooper went to stand behind the horses and took the reins. He listened to Edward's all too brief instructions carefully, waited for him to step away and nod, and then he yelled, "Ha!"

'Please, please,' he silently instructed the horses, 'do this correctly. I saw the way you whinnied and stomped in pleasure when Amelia entered the barn with carrots. Do this for her.'

The rough leather of the reins surprised him by pulling out of his hands and he instantly felt new sharp pains as they sliced the skin beneath, already laced with scratches and callouses from the morning's labor. Cooper clenched his teeth to steady his hands and feet, to keep from crying out in pain and dropping the reins as he followed the horses. He gripped them harder, as he should have been all along. Carefully he watched and judged, constantly doing the trigonometry in his head based on a lone tree off to the side to determine which angle he was steering the horses, making adjustments as he calculated they were necessary. Never had so much effort been put into a straight line before.

Amelia's father and brother had walked ahead and stopped to indicate where the end of the furrow should be. Pulling back hard, feeling some blood trickle down his palm, Cooper called out for the horses to stop. He turned to look at Edward who only studied him once again. "Well, you may have been slower than molasses, but that is the straightest furrow I've ever seen."

"Beginner's luck," David mumbled.

Cooper dropped the reins and walked forward, his legs wobbly and his back aching. "Thank you." He reached up and ran his palm down the darker horse's neck, the one he knew was Amelia's favorite. "Thank you, Brownie."

"Your hand is bleeding," Edward said.

Cooper waited for the jab about soft city hands but it didn't come. "It doesn't matter," he lied. "You need several more rows, yes?"

But Edward shook his head. "No. It has been a hard day. Let's head back."

The whoop from David informed Cooper that this was earlier than usual, but he didn't join in his excitement. He helped to pack up their supplies and followed them back to the cabin, unsure if, despite all his blood and sweat, he'd accomplished anything more than a sore body and one very straight line.

* * *

 _ **Thank you to Lady Maca for re-igniting my Coopmelia lamp. And, as always, thank you in advance for your reviews!**_


	5. Bareback Rider 2

_**This chapter and the previous (Chapters Four and Five) follow the events of**_ **Amelia and The Bareback Rider.**

* * *

 **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

"I shouldn't have told her," Cooper said more to himself than to anyone else, watching the barn from the window in the cabin, the thunderous look in Amelia's eyes floating in front of his face. It would only makes things worse, he suspected, to have his young wife go and try to defend his honor to her father. He should be defending his own honor, and Edward would only think less of him for not doing so.

Amelia's mother chuckled over the stove. "I have learned it is very difficult to tell Amelia much of anything. That girl has always plotted her own course. She would fly if she could."

Cooper smiled in spite of his concern, remembering Amelia's unbridled excitement looking out the airplane window on their flight to Texas in February. But he could not reply as David approached the cabin and entered, stirring up noise. Sighing, Cooper sat back down in his adopted spot and waited for Amelia. Perhaps it was for the best. He did not want his wife's heart broken, of course, but maybe it would help her decide to leave on her own, without Cooper having to ask her to do so. Or it could be the opposite: her father could tell her how weak and ineffectual her husband was and her eyes would be opened to the error she had made five months ago, and she'd tell Cooper to leave without her . . .

Shivering at the thought, even in the heat of the cabin, Cooper stood sharply when he heard the door open again, not realizing how long Amelia had been gone.

But it was not just Amelia that entered. Her father followed, and Cooper's chest tightened at the sight of the man's sure strides directly over to him. He spotted Amelia behind her father, and her obviously red eyes indicated she'd been crying. He wanted to rush to her side, to pull her away from whatever it was that had upset her, but there wasn't time as her father was now upon him.

Edward put out his hand and said, "Cooper. I owe you an apology. I've behaved terribly. My daughter is lucky to have you, and you bring her all the happiness she deserves."

Looking down, Cooper started to put out his own bandaged right hand, just as Amelia's mother said sharply, "Ed, his hands."

"No." Cooper put up his left hand to silence her. "It's fine."

Taking the other man's palm firmly, clenching his jaw to keep from wincing at the discomfort, Cooper returned his firm handshake with equal determination. Then they nodded to each other, and Edward turned to get the cup of cool water his wife had tried to hand him when he'd entered.

Then his Amelia was there, and he could tell from her soft smile that they were only happy tears now. She ran her hand through his dirty hair and whispered, "Do you need new bandages?"

"No, thank you." He smiled at her and felt himself relaxing, that knot that had tightened up in his stomach again starting to loosen. "I wish we could be alone," he whispered back, softer.

She nodded. "Me, too."

"I really wish I could take a bath."

A huge grin this time. "Me, too."

* * *

While still hot, hotter than Cooper liked, at least there was a breeze the next day and overnight the plants and grass had perked up and become a brighter shade of green in the downpour. It stormed all night, loud cracks of thunder and lightening; or so he had been told. For the first time since returning here, Cooper had sleep soundly, his arm wrapped around Amelia.

Over breakfast - an actual breakfast in the cabin, which only confirmed his suspicions about the previous mornings - Edward asked Cooper about the windmill, and Cooper excitedly told him everything he'd learned and memorized just for this opportunity.

"I presume it needs to be on a rise somewhere, to catch the most wind?" Edward asked, leaning back from his plate.

"Yes. Unfortunately, I do not think you can put it by the cabin to power your well," Cooper agreed.

"I think I know just the spot. It would be good for the thrashing machine, too. Would you like to come out with me, help me scout locations?"

Cooper smiled. "It would be my pleasure."

Surprised but oddly relieved that David had been given the day off, Cooper followed behind Edward as they toured his acres of farmland. It was still awkward and stilted with Amelia's father; Cooper did not know him well, and he did not fall into easy conversation with strangers under the best of circumstances, but Edward seemed content to walk in silence and talk to him about the windmill when they stopped to look out over one plain or another. Cooper hoped his fear of some sort of embarrassing father-in-law speech was not going to come to fruition.

They stood at one corner of a field, and Edward leaned down to inspect the short stalks of wheat as he had been doing at each field they had come to. "The rain last night was sorely needed," he said. "What crops are there in Los Angles?"

"None in the city proper. But north of the city mostly strawberries and avocados," Cooper explained.

"Avocados?" Edward asked, standing and pulling the shaft of wheat with him.

"A green tree fruit with a creamy sort of texture."

"Never heard of them." Edward shook his head. "Strawberries, though, I've tried to grow them here a couple of times. Never had any luck. Too hot and dry, I think. Does Amelia like them?"

"Oh, yes. We always have some kind of fruit at breakfast."

"And avocados?"

"No. Well, yes, Amelia loves them but she's -" he caught himself "- they make her sick." Cooper shuddered at the memory.

Leo had make a big bowl of his famous guacamole, and Amelia devoured it during a movie they are all watching, raving about the taste. Until she said, "That's strange. I think this is making my throat itch. Is that normal?" By the time they'd gotten to the emergency room, she had hives all over her face and her breath was shallow. It still pained Cooper to imagine how close he'd been to losing her.

"Did you and David plow and sow and work all these acres by yourself?" Cooper asked, pushing the fear that still lingered out of his mind.

"Yes," Edward said, looking over the land.

"That's a lot of work for two people." His body aching and his hands still blistered and painful, Cooper now understood exactly how difficult that would have been.

"It is." Edward nodded. "But that's what the long days of summer were made for. And we all work together here at harvest time. I can often arrange some help if needed at other times, too. Earl Johnson has ten sons -" Cooper's eyebrows went up "- and I can usually arrange for a day or two's work from some of them, if needed." Edward smiled. "Frank was awful sweet on Amelia. A promise of lunch by her side was usually enough for him. Until she got engaged to John, of course." He paused with a sharp breath. "I hope I did not speak out of turn."

"I knew," Cooper said in a rush. "There are no secrets between Amelia and me."

Edward nodded. "It pleases me to hear that. That is as it should be."

Unsure what to say, Cooper just nodded back. Of course there are no secrets between them. Amelia knew his greatest secret and he knew hers. And neither were what her father thought they were.

"Cooper?"

"Sir? Ed?" He had become so accustomed to his defiant yes-sirs and no-sirs that he found it hard to call his father-in-law Ed now. But the older man didn't seem to notice.

Edward turned and looked away, toying with the shaft of wheat in his hand. "You've made my daughter very happy." He paused. Suddenly, it occurred to Cooper that Edward was not as old as he had imagined him all along. In reality, Cooper was probably closer to his father-in-law's age than his wife's; he was probably, what?, in his mid-forties at the most.

"I've tried. She's made me very happy in return," Cooper said.

"Amelia - I do not think she would lie to me." He frowned and paused.

Cooper felt his stomach lurch. 'Here it comes,' he thought, 'the conversation I've been dreading.' All this hand shaking and talk of crops and the windmill were just place holders until Amelia's father could rail against him for stealing his daughter away. Standing up straighter, Cooper knew he had no choice but to take it. And, after the days of silence, it would be a relief.

"She tells me you were married before . . . before you knew her."

"That's correct, sir. I promise you. I realize you only have my word, but it's the truth." This still managed to make Cooper blush and feel like a hypocrite, remembering all that happened between them in the log cabin, how a single word or movement would have made a liar out of him.

Nodding sharply, Edward looked back at him. "Then that is good enough for me. There's something you need to know. About Amelia's mother. I'm not a doctor or a smart professor man like you, but there's something wrong with her mother. There have been other . . . babes. But they did not live."

His eyebrows raised at the strange turn in conversation, Cooper started to reply, "The rate of infant mortality -"

"No, they weren't infants. They -" Cooper watched him struggle. "They were never alive, you see. Some weren't even . . . formed yet, they came so early. There's something wrong with Amelia's mother, I think, with her womb. I worry about Amelia."

"I understand," Cooper said softly, although he did not entirely understand. He was at a loss for words. There are so many things he could say, and yet so many things he couldn't say. Maybe the fault wasn't Amelia's mother at all, although fault was the wrong word, he knew. Probably Amelia hadn't inherited anything, it was just the lack of proper medical care at this time. Obviously, with modern medical practices, Amelia would have a much better chance of carrying an infant to term. In five years, when they decided to start having children. Cooper couldn't tell him that either.

"Please don't hurt Amelia," Edward said, staring at him pointedly.

"Sir, I would never dream of doing anything to hurt her."

Edward shook his head. "I'm not expressing myself properly. Perhaps it is a sin to even discuss this but . . . what I'm saying is, you might have to make a decision, some day, for her, to stop hurting her. And nothing hurts a woman like an empty cradle. I can't tell you what to do, it's your right as her husband, but . . . please, don't take it if it's only going to hurt her."

Amelia's father turned and walked away sharply. Cooper watched his back and took deep breath. Did Amelia know? No, of course not, there is no way she would have known for it was inconceivable for it to have been discussed. Even in the 21st-century, parents would not discuss that with their children. How long? After David, of course, but how much - Cooper shook his head. No, it had cost Amelia's father a lot of pride to tell him that, and he would not take more by speculating. Or by telling Amelia. He'd just insist on a full round of testing before they tried to conceive. He would just tell her that's how it was done in the future.

Cooper waited until Edward was a good thirty yards in front of him to run and catch up, and then he only asked about the windmill.

* * *

She caught her freed hair in her hand and pulled it over her shoulder, leaving the long line of her naked backside exposed to him. Her actions seemed in slow motion as she turned, her face peeking over her shoulder, just beyond that hair, and Cooper swore she fluttered her eyelashes. "Are you sure you won't join me? I brought soap, too. It's in the saddle bag. You know you've been desperate for a bath . . ."

His wonderful, beautiful Amelia. She wasn't going to ask him to leave her behind. She never wanted to leave his side; she only wanted more adventures with him. Of course she would have an idea about time travel from a book. It should have seemed silly and absurd, but there was something about that stuck to the roof of Cooper's brain. Was it fantasy or was it actual retrocausality? He knew that he must find out, just as he knew he only wanted to do so with Amelia at his side.

Amelia. She stood on the edge of the swimming hole, her flawless pale skin glowing in the sunlight. She looked like a water goddess, a sea siren pulling him. So young, so vibrant, so full of vitality, the picture of health. Cooper pushed away what her father has told him. No. There would be ways around that in the future. He would call upon all of science for her, even if it involved him screaming at the heavens like Dr. Frankenstein. His Amelia was only the bringer of life. Look at the life she brought him.

A water nymph! That's it!

He stood abruptly and reached for the buttons on his pants.

"So, that's a yes?" Amelia asked.

"Don't act surprised. You pretend to be all innocent, batting your eyelashes, but you know you look like a sexy water nymph standing there naked, looking at me like that," he said, bending down to untie his shoes. "And you know I can't resist bathing with you."

The water was cold and the rocks on the bottom of the stream hurt the soles of his feet, but Cooper dove in to the water with pleasure. It felt so good to be submerged, to be given the opportunity to be clean once more! He had tried, once every day, to go out to the well when no one was around and strip down the baggy cotton knee-length shorts that served as underwear here. It was nothing more than a futile attempt, some crude variation of a sponge bath, but it was better than nothing. An actual bath, in the tub he had fond memories of, was never offered. Not that he was sure if he could take it; where would everyone go? He would have no privacy. There had only been once that he'd ever allowed some one other than his mother or grandmother to see him in the bath - even then he'd been a very young boy - and look what that got him. He smiled. Everything.

Amelia swam up to him and put her hand out for the cake of soap he was clutching. "Shall I wash your hair? And then you can wash mine?"

He smiled wider and passed over the soap. Amelia's fingers scrubbed his scalp, and he winced slightly when they passed over the line of sunburn from his part. But it felt so wonderful, the dirt and the germs being washed away by the water, the tension and fear washed away by his wife.

"New rule," he said, after he ducked to rinse the soap out and turned to start scrubbing Amelia's longer hair, "we only stay at places with indoor plumbing when we travel."

Chuckling, Amelia said. "But what about Ancient Greece? I'd love to go there."

"I thought you read the _Iliad_ ," Cooper replied. "Not indoor plumbing per se, but at least regular bathing was an important part of their culture."

" _Public_ bathing," Amelia corrected him. "You just told me you hated that."

Behind her, Cooper smiled, "Well, I'm out here naked in an open field, aren't I? The things I do for you. Now dunk."

Amelia dove into the water and came up a couple of feet away from him. When she returned, he said, "Really, Ancient Greece next? I thought we just decided on Victorian England to meet and inspire H. G. Wells."

"It doesn't have to be next, just someday. There are a thousand places I want to see. Like early 1960's Rome - I can't wait to ride a Vespa with you!" Cooper's eyebrows went up. He would have said there was no way he was going to ride a Vespa, but he knew that would only encourage Amelia to try harder. "And Renaissance Venice. And Prohibition New York City. Shanghai between the wars! We could travel to Egypt with Agatha Christie. Oh! Edwardian England!"

He couldn't help but grin at her large, excited eyes and her dreamy smile. "You've given this a lot thought, I see."

"Yes." She nodded seriously. "It's all out there, waiting for us, don't you see? All of time, spread out before us like the night sky, each moment a glittering star and we just have to gather them up."

"How . . ." - Cooper searched for the correct term - ". . . poetic."

In a sudden movement, Amelia reached out for the soap and started to wash her torso. "I've been . . . writing a little bit," she mumbled.

"Writing?" Cooper asked, his eyebrows going up even higher. He didn't know that.

"Just a few phrases or ideas so far. But I've been seriously contemplating writing down our adventures as a series of stories."

"Fantasy, I presume. No one would ever believe it's true," Cooper snorted. When she didn't reply or look up from her washing, Cooper bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Amelia, that came out wrong. I did not mean to disparage your idea. I think if you want to write, you should. It's just that it's all so . . . fantastical. That's what I meant."

"I think you meant fantastic." Then she looked up at him with a grin. "And don't you forget it." She startled him by splashing him with a large crash of water and laughing at his stunned face. This woman!

Later, after they'd made love and were stretched out on the quilt to enjoy the breeze, Cooper told her that he wanted to stop in Los Angles when they arrived, just long enough to buy a phonograph for her mother and a copy of _Moby Dick_ for her father. "Then we'll go discover if my cloaking device really works."

"I'm sure it will," Amelia said. "I'm not concerned."

He was not surprised by the surety in her voice. Amelia ran on boundless optimism and that extended to his endeavors. Yes, sometimes that optimism seemed more like oblivious naïveté, like it had with this trip, but he would not have stolen it from her for the universe. Her belief in him was intoxicating, and he found himself striving ever harder to live up to her expectations. His work had never been better, even his public work at Caltech.

"So, tell me more about all these plans of yours. Where do you want to go again and why?" he asked drowsily, pulling her in closer so her head was on his chest.

He listened to her reasons, content to let her do almost all of the talking, alternately smiling at her enthusiasm or raising his eyebrows at another crazy idea she had. Their future exploits seemed so real the way she described them, and he found himself getting caught up in all her ideas. Yes, they would do all that and more together. Why did he think, even for a second, that she could have ever been happy and fulfilled here? She was genuinely committed to the unconventional life he had offered her, a life outside of reality, a life of temporal streams and adventures. He was just as committed to her, to her determination and optimism and force of will. He was the scientist officer and she was the captain, both indispensable for successful missions, companions and compliments. A life of true partnership.

Amelia was a Kansas tornado transplanted into his life, sending his clocks spinning, and Cooper loved being caught in her whirlwind, wherever it may lead them.

* * *

 _ **Thank you in advance for your reviews!**_


	6. Bee's Knees 1

_**This chapter and the next (Chapters Six and Seven) follow the events of**_ **Amelia and The Bee's Knees.** _ **Please enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**_

 _ **Chapter Six**_

* * *

'Well, this is a fine kettle of fish.'

Sighing deeply, Cooper leaned his head back against the hard brick wall of the basement before immediately pulling it away again, remembering all that dirt Amelia had gotten off of its grimy surface to smear on her arms. Taking another deep breath, he looked around the space.

It was good to have his lungs fill with oxygen again. It felt like he had been holding his breath for far too long, several minutes surely, while he listened to Amelia struggle to get out of the basement window, the soft but certain thumps of her body against the pavement of the ally, and the terrifying seconds that the policeman's flashlight lit up the exact spot her invisible form was resting. But then the light was gone and Cooper had only heard a few barely audible soft thuds of her shoes as she walked away. Amelia was leaving, Amelia was invisible, Amelia was safe. All that mattered was completed: Amelia was out of the speakeasy and moving away from the policemen who had come to raid it. Before long she'd be safely back in their hotel room, hopefully taking a long bath to wash off that wall dirt.

Now, he needed to formulate a plan for himself. Time was of the essence. What he wouldn't give to have his time machine tucked away in this room, not the forgotten storage room in the basement of Grand Central Station!

Oh, Grand Central Station. What smug fools they had been when they landed! This was, technically, all Amelia's fault. She read all those F. Scott Fitzgerald books, she wanted to travel here so badly, she looked so alluring in all those dropped-waist dresses, and she was so very, very happy. It's not that he hadn't wanted to come. After all the work Amelia had been doing for the past year to pass her GED and get accepted to college, he wanted her to have fun, to enjoy some carefree days without worries or stresses. And it had been carefree, hadn't it? Somehow, she even made diving into the ocean at Coney Island fun.

This time, this decade seemed to suit Amelia's impulsive nature. It was just as brash and as headstrong and as forward as she was. Nothing was so beautiful as his thrilled and pleased wife, and he basked in her joy and smiles all week. Even the mysterious birth control malfunction hadn't been able to dampen their spirits. No matter what happened here, he knew he'd always carry the memory of Amelia sashaying down the streets of New York City in all those breezy dresses, whenever he may find himself.

Amelia was young and the city was vibrant, both of them shimmying like dancers, bright as neon signs, brassy as trumpets.

Until she insisted on this cockamamie speakeasy plan. He'd already told her no, back at home, before they ever left. Numerous times he had said it. And yet her research and determination hadn't let up. That was just like Amelia, wasn't it? Once they were here, she seemed to be having so much fun he thought it was forgotten. But it came up again and she couldn't be dissuaded. He had only given in because it was clear she would go alone if he didn't agree.

But, over the next day, he made peace with his decision. It was true that Amelia's research had been thorough and rigorous. Plus, he knew he'd already disappointed her when he refused to take the Staten Island Ferry (a boat!) out to see the Statue of Liberty or to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (so high!). The more he thought about it, the more he talked himself into it. They should go to the speakeasy, they would laugh and dance and Amelia would get it out of her normally reasonable system. What a fun story it would be to tell their friends when they returned! There was little Cooper enjoyed more than listening to Amelia regale others with her tales. By the time they'd dressed that evening, he was feeling a bit excited himself, especially when Amelia put on that breathtaking black beaded number. But then . . .

No, he couldn't be angry with her. Besides, he didn't have time to dwell on any possible mistake now. How was it possible that he - a time traveler, able to create time by leaving, spending weeks somewhere, and then coming back to the present only five minutes later - found himself with a serious shortage of that crucial commodity just at this moment?

Shaking his head, chastising himself for wasting even a second reminiscing about the lovely creature that was his wife, Cooper crossed the room and bent down to look through the keyhole at the speakeasy's main room, the one he and Amelia had had to tango their way out of under the protection of his new cloaking device.

The police were still there, and he watched them for a minute and listened to their conversation. It didn't sound like they planned on leaving anytime soon. And surely they would come to investigate what was behind this locked door sooner rather than later; it was probably shoddy work that they weren't already searching it.

"Focus. A plan," Cooper mouthed to himself, standing upright. He didn't have the cloaking device, having sent it out with Amelia - not a regret, her safety was far more important to him than his own - and he seemed to be trapped, so perhaps he would just have to use his sparkling wit and superior intelligence to talk his way out -

"Officer, officer! Oh, thank God!"

His head snapped toward the window as he gasped. No! No, it couldn't be! She had promised! What was she doing?

Growling, Cooper strode swiftly to the window just in time to see a fully visible Amelia, tears running down her cheeks, her voice suddenly higher pitched and with a slower drawl than normal, throw herself at the policeman standing at the end of the alley.

"Oh, officer, I'm so lost and frightened! A man tired to accost me on the street and he wanted to violate my person and I threw my purse in his face and I ran and he chased me down a dark alley and now I'm so lost and frightened and you've got to help me!"

Cooper groaned and felt his jaw tighten in frustration. Why was she doing this? He had explicitly warned her not to, he had clearly instructed her to only run away, to think only of herself, and she had promised to do just that! But here she was, drawing attention to herself, babbling foolishly like someone with much less intelligence than she possessed, telling some sort of unbelievable story about being accosted by a stranger -

But - Cooper wrinkled his brow. He found he wanted to let out a low whistle of appreciation. Amelia was actually good at this. No, she was brilliant. She sounded exactly like what she claimed to be, some young and naïve and frightened maiden from Kansas. And, at that moment, maybe she was. Well, not the maiden part. Cooper listened, half in outrage and half in awe, as her story became both more implausible and more compelling with every word. It wasn't even realistic, that such an overweight man could chase her down and remain unnoticed despite his singular appearance. Whatever possessed her to come up with such a description?

It was only when the policeman put a protective arm around her shoulders and they started to walk away - Cooper noticed with a little smile how Amelia kept him moving even when his steps seemed to want to stop - that he understood. The villain in her little tale looked nothing like Cooper. Amelia was giving him an escape; she was defying him to save him.

Once Amelia and the policeman weren't visible anymore, Cooper reached down for Amelia's forgotten handbag to dig out her compact mirror again. Just as he had before, he used it to check the alley in both directions. All clear. He took a deep breath. But for how long?

Just then, he heard a loud noise behind him, something crashing close to the door. The policemen in the speakeasy were getting far too close for comfort, and that simple lock wouldn't be enough to stop even one determined man. Cooper reached in for the last of the subway tokens, dropped Amelia's bag, and slipped off his shoes, setting them just outside the window. Taking one more breath, he lifted himself out to what he hoped would be safety.

He, too, landed on his stomach, but he moved swiftly, pushing himself upright, grabbing his shoes and running silently down the alley towards the veil of darkness at the other end. He refused to allow himself to think about rats or garbage or pickpockets or hobos or even the dirt caking the bottom of his socks. It didn't take long, all those workouts for just this type of situation fulfilling their need, and, without a pause, he ducked sideways into the first cross alley he encountered.

Stopping and catching his breath, Cooper looked around, hoping his eyes would adjust further to the pitch black space. Unlike Amelia, he truly had no choice. This lonely and dark alley was his only means of escape. Kneeling down, he put his shoes back on and laced them up. As he stood, he swiveled his head. No, he couldn't risk crossing the main alley again, even though he could see street lamps in that direction. He'd have to head the opposite way, through the lengthy east-west alley to the opposite end of the block.

Cooper put his hands up in front of him, not really as fists, but close enough that if he thought he needed to protect himself on short notice he'd be able to do it. It really was very dark and only seemed to be getting darker the closer he got to the center of the block. He felt he had no choice but to walk slowly, to make the minimum amount of noise. If Amelia had been believed - and she really was so convincing - the police might be out looking for an attacker, not just people in evening dress that looked like they'd escaped an illegal speakeasy. Twice, his foot touched something unexpected and unseen in the dark and he stumbled slightly, his stomach churning at the possibilities. And was it his imagination or was it actually colder here in the depths of this alley? He shivered slightly, somewhat relieved that Amelia had not trod this dangerous, dark, and cold space alone. Not that he was condoning her actions.

He slowed even further once the alley started to lighten as he approached the end of the block. There was a small knot of people gathered there, and he strained his eyes to make them out. How would it look for a man to suddenly emerge from an alley, dirty and with, he imagined, wild eyes? No, he needed to be careful about who saw him exit. Once he was out on the sidewalk, moving among the masses, that was a different story. He would blend in by faking a careless nonchalance he didn't feel.

The tallest person in the group of three turned in the light, and the badge on his chest reflected off the street lamp.

"Frak," Cooper murmured, ducking behind some metal trash cans he saw along the edge. The cops were this far down. Perhaps it was reasonable, being on the same block, although the east-west blocks of New York City had seemed interminable while he'd been walking and squinting and shivering down one.

Crouching and watching, Cooper's legs started to ache from the tension and the position. What was taking so long? How much could there be to talk about? Either these other two people had been in the speakeasy or they hadn't, either these people were Amelia's fake attacker or they weren't.

Surely Amelia was back at the hotel by now. Surely, once she'd drawn the policeman away, she'd found a way to extricate herself as swiftly as possible and had hurried down the steps of the subway station just across the intersection to take the quick journey back. Only one stop. Cooper longed to be back there with her. Not just for his own safety, although his rapid heartbeat told him that was still of paramount importance, or even to relieve the tension in his legs, but rather to hold his beautiful wife close once more.

He'd tried and, he thought, succeeded in being strong for her in the basement of the speakeasy. He hadn't wanted her to doubt his plan, he had pretended to be confident that he would escape unharmed, without the cloaking device, without her. But, in reality, he was terrified. What if they were discovered and arrested, what if the hotel room was linked to them and searched, all their counterfeit money discovered? They'd be tried and imprisoned, lost to time, and, worst of all, separated from each other.

Now, at least, thanks to her disobedience, Amelia was safe. She'd escaped, she'd seemed to succeed in convincing the police that she was only a victim of an unrelated crime, and she had probably already returned to the hotel. He didn't doubt that his brilliant and resourceful wife would understand his instructions for the time machine, that she would be brave enough to return home without him as soon as possible.

Or would she? Cooper's fingers clenched the metal edge of the trash can. She had already defied him once tonight, putting herself in danger for his safety; would she dare to ignore his pleas yet again for the same reason? "Frak," he murmured once more. Of course she would. The type of woman who bravely steps into a time machine with a virtual stranger is not the type of woman that meekly leaves that same man behind, stranded alone in time. Nor would he want her to be. Cooper wanted to see Amelia jut her chin out every day for the rest of his life, to challenge him and contravene him. Oh, it was infuriating, he wasn't denying that. But he wouldn't have traded it for the all the time in the universe.

"Hey, mister. Can you spare a nickel?"

Startled out of his reverie, Cooper jerked downwards but managed not to upset the trash cans he was hiding behind. He hadn't even noticed the approach of a young man in the threadbare clothes from the darkest end of the alley.

'Please, please, please, go away,' Cooper silently begged, refusing to move or make any further eye contact in hopes the hobo would leave him alone and not reveal his presence.

"Hey, you there!" A man, perhaps the policeman, called from the sidewalk. A thin shaft of weak light pierced the alley, illuminating the stranger. Yes, of course, the policeman's flashlight. "What are you doing?"

"I just need a nickel for some food, sir," the man said. "I thought maybe this gentleman would give it to me."

Cooper held his breath as the light arched along the bricks above his head.

"There's no one there. Either be on your way or I'll have to take you in for loitering."

Without reply, the man turned and ran back down the dark alley. Although he was relieved to be hidden so well, Cooper couldn't help but feel sorry for him. After counting to three hundred, he slowly lifted his head just enough to peer over the top of the trash can again. He let out a deep breath as the sidewalk was now clear.

Standing and smoothing out his new suit as much as he could, he straightened and stepped out on the sidewalk. The couple approaching him gave him a funny look, but he merely put his hands in his pockets, nodded at them, and whistled his way down the street.

* * *

It's not that he didn't consider staying in the hotel room that morning. He didn't really want to be separated from Amelia again so soon, especially after how upset she'd been. But, then, it truly seemed all the danger was past. Amelia was normally a strong, brave woman and he was certain she was just overwrought for some reason the night before. And she knew about his meeting with Tesla, it had been an integral component of their plans; he was looking forward to it the most and she knew that. Cooper also knew she'd never begrudge him this, his own adventure, meeting one of his idols, getting to sit down and spend an entire day discussing science with him.

It's not that writing a note hadn't crossed him mind. But Amelia looked so peaceful sleeping in bed that he tried to spend as little time as possible in the bedroom so as to avoid waking her. And, again, she knew what his plans were. Best to let her sleep in and do whatever she wanted today, whether it would be what he suggested or not.

But, somewhere around lunch in Telsa's hotel room, a creeping feeling started up the back of Cooper's neck. Amelia. It was a rotten thing to do, he saw then, to leave her to wake up alone without him, without any reminder of his appointment. She had been so terribly upset last night. Cooper hadn't even told her the whole story about hiding behind the trash cans and how close he'd come to being discovered because he didn't want to upset her further. Instead, he'd only told her about the subways stops, and he'd even left out how many stops he'd passed and how many trains he'd changed on purpose just in case he was being followed.

Amelia. He'd never seen her so frightened as she was last night. She'd stepped into his time machine with nary a tear and she'd stood up to her father for him without a second thought. What kind of man, what kind of husband, was he to leave her alone in that state? Yes, she'd seemed much calmer telling him the story before bed, but if it really was post-adrenal stress, it could, as he'd told her, last up to forty-eight hours.

Losing threads of Tesla's conversation now as his mind wondered, Cooper even allowed himself to imagine what it would have been like if Amelia had followed his directions, if she had immediately left the hotel room to go to the time machine and leave. He'd been delayed enough, it seemed, that he could have completely missed her. It wasn't being stranded in this time that worried him so much, it was being stranded alone without her. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He needed to find Amelia and confess what a horrible, horrible man he was and beg her forgiveness.

"I need to go," he said suddenly, standing, as one of his favorite scientists of all of time looked up at him in surprise. "I'm sorry. Thank you so much for your time. This has been wonderful but - but - there's a girl, you see. I love her and I need to tell her so."

Tesla's thin face broadened into a smile beneath his mustache. "Ah, there is no love like that of a gentle woman. May you be worthy of her." But then his face darkened and his accent, already almost impenetrable, thickened even further. "Although, I hope she is not one of these new women, giving up her gracious femininity and cutting off all her hair."

Cooper gave a small smile. History remembered Tesla as a thwarted and bitter man, but he had only been the most genial of hosts today. But, no, he didn't hold with a liberated woman, and his rages against flappers were famous. Another good reason Cooper hadn't offered to bring Amelia along. Not that he hadn't been tempted to watch his two favorite people battle each other . . .

"Don't worry. Amelia would never cut off her hair." He grabbed his hat and fled before Tesla had time to say anything else.

* * *

Amelia had cut off her hair.

Cooper knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't help but stare as she smoothed the dark tresses with her palm. It was so short with heavy bangs and little curls coming forward on her cheeks. It made her look older, wiser, more experienced. Which he supposed she was.

"You hate it," she said with a frown.

"I - uh - well, I didn't expect it." He still couldn't seem to close his mouth or form a coherent sentence. This was really the last thing he expected. It completely altered the appearance of his wife.

"You hate it," she said again, the frown deepening although there was no emotion in her voice to give away what, exactly, she was frowning about. His reaction most likely, but was it possible _she_ regretted it?

"Do you?" He managed to lick his lips and force them closed.

"I don't know. It was a split second decision. And I loved the feeling afterwards, the lightness, the breeze on my neck, but now . . ." For a moment, a spark had flared in her emerald eyes, and he discovered that the dark shape of her bangs and the hair around her face framed them in the most beguiling fashion. "I think maybe I overreacted, thinking I was proving something after last night that didn't need to be proven." She shrugged and looked down at her shoes. "You love my braids."

"Amelia," Cooper said softly, throwing his jacket aside with one hand and reaching for her cheek with the other, "I love you for far more than your braids. It's your hair and if you want it like this, well, who am I to stop you?"

There was a pause, a beat, and Cooper hope she believed in his sincerity. Tesla may have been correct that there was no love like that from a gentle woman, but Cooper wouldn't trade the love he got from this sharp and opinionated woman for a second.

"I'm glad you realize that." Amelia lifted her chin in that defiant way she had, and Cooper's heart pounded. Oh, yes, her eyes!

He chuckled in relief and wrapped his arms about her waist. "Besides, now I can see your neck. And the bangs emphasize your beautiful eyes." Bending down, he traipsed down her chin and neck with his lips.

"Mmmmmm," Amelia moaned.

One thing lead to another and, before he even knew how, he was facing Amelia's beautiful backside, her dark hair sharp and high her neck, the creamy line of her spine only broken by the rows of pearls about her neck, thigh high stockings, her heels, and that garter! It's frilly white straps did nothing to hide her posterior from him, it only accentuated her curves.

Then, later, he watched her, that hair bobbing - surely not a coincidental synonym - forward and back on her cheeks in time with her head, and she looked up him, her emerald eyes large and flashing beneath those straight, heavy bangs, as her lips curled around . . . He begged. He, Cooper Shelton, begged for her body, and he was not too proud to admit how much he wanted her. When he buried himself into her, he groaned just as loudly as she did, her body only more sweet for the days it had been denied to him.

It was a memory he would carry with him for all of time: making love to Amelia on the floor of that hotel room, the long strand of pearls gently bouncing between her breasts, the feel of her garter straps under his hands, the sharp points of her high heels when she wrapped her legs around him and pressed them into his lower back. But mostly, it was the sight of her eyes beneath that newly bobbed hair.

* * *

 _ **Thank you in advance for your reviews!**_


	7. Bee's Knees 2

_**This chapter and the previous (Chapters Six and Seven) follow the events of**_ **Amelia and The Bee's Knees.** _ **Please enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **Cooper and the Temporal Nexus**_

 _ **Chapter Seven**_

* * *

The first clue was that Amelia seemed quieter than usual. Normally, he was greeted at the door with a wide smile, a chatter about her day and what she'd done and learned and read. Just the day before, he'd heard all about the final textbook list she'd been sent to purchase now that her classes were confirmed. They'd made plans to go to the Caltech student union that weekend to purchase them.

There was still a smile, but it was smaller and somehow slightly sad. Dinner was prepared and delicious, but there were less topics that seemed to interest her during it, even Cooper's questions about buying a Christmas tree, which was especially unusual as it was December first and Amelia had been so excited by the holiday the previous year. It was Amelia who suggested watching television, and, although she sat next to him attentively, he felt something rigid and absent in her posture.

Everyone was entitled to a bad day, Cooper reasoned, so he didn't ask. It wasn't like Amelia to keep a secret, anyway, so if it was serious, it was bound to come out sometime. Maybe she was just nervous about starting college in January, about being out and around that many modern people on a daily basis.

But the next day was worse, and she even pulled away from him in bed when he tried to wrap his arms around her, to silently let her know he was supporting her. Then, on the third morning, she wasn't even in bed when he woke up. Confused and rubbing his eyes, he padded to the bathroom, stopping outside the door when he heard her inside. Was she . . . talking to herself? Cooper leaned in, his ear pressed against the frosted glass and tried to eavesdrop on her mumblings, reasoning that it was acceptable behavior in this instance because he was concerned about her mental facilities.

Suddenly, the door was flung open and he had to grab the door frame to keep from falling in. Amelia stood in front of him in her nightgown, her face looking thunderous. "Were you spying on me?"

"No!" he protested. "I was just . . . I'm worried about you, that's all. You seem . . ." He shrugged. "Different, preoccupied."

"It'll be fine, I'm sure. Go to work." She stormed back to the bedroom and didn't emerge all morning. When he went in to change, she seemed asleep but he felt confident she was feigning it. Why? Why was Amelia acting this way, alternately seeming sad or angry and blatantly lying to him? No, he frowned, thinking about it later that morning in his office, maybe not. She said "it'll be fine." It _will be_ fine. Future tense. So whatever was going on, it clearly was not fine in the present. Not a lie.

Saving his work, admitting it was hopeless even at ten in the morning, Cooper stopped by Leo's lab to tell him he was leaving early and would walk home. At the last second, he decided to knock on his own apartment door, remembering the look on Amelia's face that very morning.

"Cooper?" she said with frown, opening the door. "Did you forget your key?"

"No, it's right here." He held up the ring as he stepped inside.

"Are you ill? You're home very early. It's only a little after ten," Amelia pointed out, shutting the door.

The wifely concern reassured him. That was the Amelia he knew. He licked his lips. "No, I'm well. But are you?"

"What do you mean?" She physically stepped away from him.

"Amelia, please tell me what's going on. You're worried about something, it's obvious. You said it _will be_ fine, not that it _is_ fine. So something is currently worrying you."

"It's nothing . . . woman problems." She looked away from him.

"Oh." Cooper contemplated how to continue. It wasn't a topic he liked to dwell on. "Have your menses started and are they especially uncomfortable?"

His wife - his brave, strong wife - surprised him by reaching up to wipe off what must have been a tear. "That's just it," she said, still not meeting his gaze, "they haven't."

"Well, um, this isn't my area of expertise, but you're always irregular, right?"

"Not since I went on birth control."

"Oh." Cooper let that sink in and then suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh! I know! Things got off track when we were in New York, with the broken birth control ring and the time travel and the - Oh."

The pearls, the heels, the garter, the bangs, her eyes . . .

Amelia nodded. Cooper reached out for her, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, and he kept touching her shoulder even when she tired to pull away at first. "Amelia, look at me, please." Finally she turned and he saw more tears threatening to escape from her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"No." She shook her head and Cooper felt his chest relax. "Ma always told me you should wait until the the second months passes before you can be sure."

The thumping returned. Not that kind of unsure. "You don't have to wait. You just take a test."

"A test?"

She had adapted so well to modern life that Cooper was often surprised by these gaps in Amelia's knowledge. He mind wondered how she missed the modern pregnancy test, but then why would she have noticed? It was so obvious to everyone else it probably never occurred to Penelope or even her gynecologist to mention it to her. Especially as she was taking precautions to avoid just this sort of outcome.

But the pearls, the heels, the garter, the bangs, her eyes . . .

"You just buy them over the counter and you urinate on - Never mind, I'll just go get one and you'll see."

"Now? You mean - I can know for sure now?" Amelia asked.

"No time like the present." Cooper bent down and kissed her softly on the forehead before he turned to leave.

* * *

In the checkout line, there was an infant in the cart in front of him. Normally, he tended to ignore underage humans. However, this little girl - he presumed from the number of pink items on her person - gurgled and smiled at him. Confused at first, he tentatively waved at her. She giggled and kicked her legs in response. Cooper smiled back. Her mother turned and gave Cooper a grin.

"Have you made a new friend?" she cooed to her child.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Cooper said, confused by this interaction.

"Don't be. I think she likes you," the woman said. Then he saw her eyes drift over to the pregnancy tests on the conveyor belt. One of each type because he couldn't decide in the aisle which one was best and he didn't have the time or desire to stand there next to the tampons and research it on his phone. "It's good practice for you, maybe."

"Huh? Oh, yes. Maybe." Were people always this forward about other people's pregnancy tests in the Target check-out line? If that was the case, perhaps he should take his business elsewhere!

Then the cashier spoke to the woman, as she had now progressed to the front of the line, and she smiled once more at Cooper. "Congratulations, I hope."

"Thanks," Cooper mumbled. Later, waiting for the bus and on the way home, his mind kept turning back to the whole experience. He imagined a little Amelia sitting in the cart at Target, giggling and kicking her legs, and it wasn't hard to do in the least. He could see it so clearly. A little green-eyed girl dancing around their apartment. A little green-eyed girl to take on adventures - no, probably not that. Time traveling children were a bad idea. Regardless, he found himself smiling as he climbed the stairs to return home.

But Amelia was actually pacing with her arms crossed, and her tension wiped away the visions he had enjoyed. They carefully read the instructions together, and, although it said that it should be done first thing in the morning for best results, they agreed that they should do at least one right then to hopefully give them at least some information. He left her to it, setting the timer on his phone. Returning to the sofa, Amelia nodded, and he pushed start. She said down stiffly by him and reached for his hand. He thought about telling her, even before they knew the result, that he was oddly excited, that the idea of a baby made him explicitly happy, even if it wasn't their original plan. But Amelia wouldn't meet his eyes, and he could feel the disappointment leaking out of her. The timer went off and she finally looked at him with wide and frightened eyes until he tilted his head in the direction of the bathroom. They got up and went together. He let Amelia pick up the stick, but he saw it over her shoulder, even before she let out her strangled cry.

He was going to be a father.

So many emotions crashed into him all at once. Relief at knowing, some disappointment because this wasn't their plan, concern for Amelia, but mostly excitement. He was going to be a father. He was going to get his little Amelia. Just like that cold morning over a year prior, when he asked her join him, now he wanted to take someone else along on this adventure that was their life.

But Amelia was sobbing, still holding the stick, blubbering away about their previous five-year plan and how she had ruined it, that it was all her fault. Cooper reached out and pulled her in tight.

"Shhhhhh," he soothed into her hair. "You didn't ruin anything. Anything. If it's anybody's fault, it's mine. I begged." He'd pushed her back gently, crouching down to brush her bobbed hair out of her face and look directly into her eyes. "Listen. Remember what you said to me when we landed in Los Angeles? It will be be an adventure. With you. And that's all I ever want."

"Truly?"

"Truly." He took a deep breath, and he thought about their future, of days at the park and games to play and laughter to be shared, of looking away from their little girl to meet Amelia's gaze and realizing that she had given him this. "Amelia, I really want this baby. Your baby. Our baby. It's all I could think about ever since you told me."

Amelia smiled weakly and allowed herself to be gathered back into his arms. They stood for a long time holding each other in the bathroom, not speaking, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Cooper wondered what Amelia was thinking, and then terror like a clap of lightening struck him.

How could he have forgotten what her father told him? No, no. Cooper squeezed his eyes shut, grateful Amelia couldn't see him. It wouldn't happen, not to them, not now, not in this time.

The rest of the day passed in near silence. Cooper had trouble concentrating, wondering how, exactly, he should broach this topic with Amelia. He'd never told her about the conversation with her father, mostly because he'd been embarrassed by the whole thing and partly because he knew the information he'd been given wouldn't be appropriate to share.

His wife was restless, too, he noticed, just as she had been for the past couple of days. Amelia's anxiety had become his own. Cooper thought he was supposed to protect her, that there had been an implied promise in their marriage that if she came with him to the future he'd keep her safe and make her happy. And he was failing. He felt helpless, and knowing that she felt the same only amplified the feeling. Helpless in that he didn't know how to start this conversation, helpless that it wasn't really in his power to stop the loss of their child if that was what genetics and fate had given Amelia.

Finally, in the middle of restless night, he heard her crying to her pillow. He put his arm around her, smoothed her hair, and asked her to tell him what he already knew.

"We'll figure this out together, Amelia, I promise. We have the powers of science and modern medicine on our side," he finally said, hoping his words and his promise were enough. That science and modern medicine were enough.

One thing he knew for certain was that if they lost this baby, he would lose Amelia, too.

* * *

If an unsure Amelia was bad, a certain Amelia was worse. He bought the tree and hung the twinkly lights alone. He hung the stockings alone, trying not to wonder if next year he could hang a third. Yes, Amelia was physically there, next to him, but she wasn't present. As the days passed, she looked paler than normal and he was concerned that she looked thinner, which could only be a bad thing in her present condition.

Cooper wished she'd talk to someone about it. Preferably him, but she refused to even tell her girlfriends. He wanted to talk about it with her, he wanted to tell his friends, even shout it from the rooftops, but he had promised Amelia he wouldn't. Although doubts and worries and fears about losing the baby continued to plague him, robbing him of sleep, he was still excited by the idea. It felt surreal, an unexplainable happiness that he couldn't tap down. That he didn't want to tap down. Instead, he wanted to let it well up so that he could frolic in it. He wanted to pick out names and make an educational plan and discuss baby-sitting arrangements for future time travels.

Yet, every time he tried to bring it up, Amelia would turn away. "It's best not to get attached."

What had happened to his optimistic, take-on-the-world wife, who never met a problem she couldn't solve, who never knew an unknown future she wasn't willing to dive into? Finally, unable to take the silence anymore, and genuinely becoming concerned that Amelia's mental health would take a toll on her physical health that would make her fears more likely, Cooper called himself and made her an appointment with her gynecologist. He was embarrassed, standing in his office with the door locked, but he told the scheduler everything, emphasizing the necessity of this sooner-than-normal prenatal appointment.

The news came as a release so immense that Cooper didn't even know how to process it. He managed to stay calm and strong for Amelia, who wept out her relief and joy into his chest, but he had to squeeze his own eyes as he buried his face into her dark hair to keep tears at bay.

"How about some fun news. Let's determine when we should expect this baby, shall we?" Dr. Price asked, breaking up their embrace.

Backing away from him, Amelia nodded as Cooper reached for a tissue from the box on the counter to pass her.

"There's two ways to determine your due date," her doctor continued, "either the first day of your last period or some couples know the exact date of conception. Do you know that?"

Glancing over at her husband, Amelia shook her head. "Not really. Early November, we think, when we went away for our anniversary. But it's hard to pinpoint an exact date; things were . . . time was . . . a lot happened."

Cooper felt his cheeks start to burn.

Dr. Price grinned. "I understand. Sounds like an enjoyable vacation."

Cooper coughed and he saw Amelia give a small grin. While, yes, indeed, it was an enjoyable vacation, the pinpointing of the date was so much more complex than her doctor could ever imagine. Regardless, it was decided that she was due in late July.

Immediately, the veil over their marriage was lifted and she was back to being the woman he loved. They were back to being madly in love. They plotted together a special way to tell their friends, but when Christmas day came and everyone came over to play the games Amelia had organized, they couldn't wait any longer. Cooper reached back to grab her hand as she stood next to the kitchen island.

"We have some exciting news," Amelia announced.

"Okay," Leo said.

"After a not as carefully planned adventure as we thought," Amelia continued, "we find ourselves on the edge of a step forward."

"Okay," Penelope repeated, her brows furrowing.

Cooper looked over at Amelia and smiled. "Do you want to say it?" It was, at least in the short term, bigger news for her than for him.

"Let's say it together," Amelia smiled back at him.

"We're having a baby!" They chimed together, and Cooper had never felt his face so stretched by a grin.

Five faces stared back at them. "Oh. Huh. Well, that explains some things," Bernice said.

"Aren't you surprised?" Cooper asked, disappointed in the lack of response.

"You brought a teenager back from the past and married her two weeks later. Nope, nothing fazes us now," Herman replied.

But then there were hugs and handshakes and questions and even Amelia's parlor games were forgotten in the joy of their little Christmas gathering.

He shouldn't have been surprised, but Amelia dove into impending motherhood like she dove into everything else: head first. Yes, there were some tears when she found out it was recommended to stop her riding lessons and there was the argument when Cooper insisted she not time travel anymore, but mostly she approached the changes with force and acceptance. She started at Caltech in January as originally planned, determined not to let pregnancy stop her, and she excelled in her studies. Despite his fears, Penelope even took her to get her driver's license and the boys helped her pick out a new car ("We'll need it when the baby comes, Cooper!"). Fortunately, there were only a couple of mornings she said she felt nauseous but she was never sick.

But there were times that Cooper caught her touching her stomach, unusually quiet, her eyes in a far off place. "Hey," he said softly to her, kissing the top of her head, "it will be okay. You'll see." He put every wish he'd ever had into that statement.

Then, at twenty weeks, they saw their baby on the screen looking very much like a baby and not the blob it had been at their first appointment, and Cooper sucked in his breath. It was so overwhelming: there, growing inside his beautiful wife, was his baby, his son. Although he'd been envisioning a little Amelia all along, he was only thrilled at that moment. How quickly and unexpectedly his life had changed. The Cooper that existed two years ago, the Cooper that only had thoughts of building a successful time machine in order to obtain the Nobel Prize was, in retrospect, a lonely and unfulfilled man. His single-minded dream wasn't just because it was a lofty professional goal, it was because he hadn't yet discovered something even more profound to which to devote his life. But now, in that little room at the doctor's office, Cooper had everything: his wife and his unborn son.

Even once Amelia expanded further than he would have thought was possible, she continued to take two classes via the Internet over the summer, rushing through her course work so that her finals were completed by mid-July. Things changed rapidly in their apartment, as all their friends came to help turn Leo's old room into the nursery and it was stuffed practically to the ceiling with every baby gadget imaginable, as Amelia was so amused by all the gear. "Why does everyone here think a baby needs this much stuff?" she'd laughed, even as she scanned it all onto their registry.

Just as she finished her classes, the nesting instinct seemed to kick in, and Cooper couldn't turn around without seeing her knitting another set of booties or another baby sweater. He made the mistake of pointing out the baby would hardly need so many sweaters living in California, which Amelia and her cardigan-clad pregnancy hormones did not take well.

Six days before her due date, Cooper was startled from the whiteboard in his office by the sound of Amelia's call.

"Amelia?" he asked, a slight panic in his voice as she usually texted.

"The baby is coming -"

"What? Now! It's early!"

"Well, it _is_ our child so time may be a relative concept. Regardless, I'm on my way to pick you up -"

"WHAT?! You're driving?!"

Since Rajeev's office was the closest, Sheldon scrambled to collect him, and together they ran outside, hoping illogically to intercept her even though she was in a car and they were on foot, but Amelia pulled up right in front of them.

"Amelia, what are you doing? You're in labor!" Cooper shouted, as he opened the driver's side door. "Get out, Rajeev is driving us."

"Really, Cooper, it's fine, my mother churned the butter while she was in labor with David - Owwwwww!" Her face tensed as she stood, and Cooper reached out to hold her as she curled in on herself. "Okay, that one was hard."

"How far apart are the contractions?" Rajeev asked.

"Hey, that's my job!" Cooper glared over at him before looking back at his wife as he helped her into the back seat. "How far apart are the contractions?"

"I've lost track a bit, but maybe four minutes or so."

"Four minutes! Rajeev, step on it!" Cooper yelled, slamming the door behind them as he crawled in next to Amelia.

It was a whirlwind at the hospital and there was some concern that Amelia had missed her epidural window, but perhaps they were convinced when she yelled, "You will give me drugs and you will give them to me now or my husband will squash you like a bug with his death ray!" Never mind that Cooper didn't have a death ray, even he believed her and feared her in that second. Also while feeling proud that Amelia believed he could build a death ray anytime he wanted.

They had been warned in their childbirth class that a first time mother might push for several hours, but their baby was just as impatient as his mother, and less than an hour after the epidural, he rushed screaming into the world.

Amelia held her new son close and sobbed over him, even though the nurses in their kindness only tried to cheer her up. Cooper understood as he wrapped his arms around both of them. It was one of the happiest days of his life, but he knew all the sorrows that had come before, all the sorrows that Amelia had carried for nine months even while she soldiered on, putting her usual brave and determined face to the world. It seemed so simple in the light of modern medicine, but to Amelia it was a miracle she never thought she'd get to experience.

Cooper looked down at his son as his newborn cries finally quieted and he saw his own miracle there. Serendipity. Not an accident.

* * *

He knew he ought to be sleeping, but it was almost impossible without his own bed. And most certainly not without Amelia at his side. But she was sound asleep in her hospital bed, exhausted from a day and half filled with labor and motherhood and breastfeeding and visitors and a miracle. He ought to be sleeping if for no other reason than he had spent so long in the past this morning, and Amelia was correct - wasn't she always? - chronolag was very real problem. Not to mention it was finally quiet and dark in the hospital room and the Do Not Disturb sign had been hung on their door.

Just as he sighed, Cooper heard the sound of a series of grunts from the clear bassinet. Getting off the sofa, he tiptoed over to look down at his son. He didn't look unhappy, as he wasn't squishing up his face in that way he seemed to do before he cried, but in a day and half Cooper had learned his emotions could turn on a dime. Worried about waking Amelia, Cooper picked him up, and whispered "Shhhh" in his tiny ear.

Walking toward the window, Cooper reached out to open the blinds. This room was up high enough in the large building that all the lights of Los Angles twinkled around them.

"See that, Errol? When you're in the past, before light pollution exists, the sky looks all sparkly just like that. And on _Star Trek_. And your mother's eyes when she's very, very happy. Like when she first saw you."

Errol wiggled just enough that his hand poked out of his tightly swaddled bundle. Cooper reached down and the baby wrapped his tiny hand around his finger. Cooper smiled and found his eyes getting damp. Yet another thing he had never considered, never planned and yet it was another thing Amelia had brought to him to make his life full and complete.

Turning back toward the window, Cooper angled Errol so he could see the lights if he would open his eyes. "Some day, I'll take you on a journey you'll never forget. Someday I will show you wonders, even as they are being built. But do you know the most important thing I've learned in my travels, taught to me by no less a person than your mother?" Right on cue, Errol opened his eyes and looked up at him. Cooper smiled and ran his thumb along those perfect little fingers grasping his, a reminder that this helpless creature was dependent on him for protection and guidance and love. Even if he just might be a Time Lord. "In the words of Doctor Who, 'There's a lot of things you need to get across this universe. You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold.'"

To be continued . . . (after the next Amelia adventure!)

* * *

 _ **Thank you in advance for your reviews!**_

 ** _If you're interested, I'm now on Instagram. You can follow me for story teasers and other general Shamy/bookish geekiness! Handle: aprilinparisfanfic._**


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